


space oddity

by glimmerFae (harmicist)



Series: The Weight of Love [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Dissociation, Gabriel is a complicated person, Implied Sexual Content, Implied mccree/reaper, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Manipulation, Memory Loss, Overwatch Family, Overwatch Recall, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Team Talon (Overwatch), former Sigma/harold winston, harold winston's death ofc, implied ana/moira, implied mccree/sombra, implied sombra/widowmaker, moira isn't a bad person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:21:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 84,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24415060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harmicist/pseuds/glimmerFae
Summary: Siebren De Kuiper finds himself free after a decade of imprisonment by his own government, and finds himself in Talon's hands, owing them a debt he cannot easily repay.  While he's at first eager to help his rescuers during his recovery, he slowly regains enough of himself to realize that perhaps they don't have the best of intentions- for the world, or for himself.Sigma centric, sighardt in the second half of the fic, though there are hints of it earlier on.
Relationships: Moira O'Deorain & Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Moira O'Deorain & Sigma | Siebren de Kuiper, Sigma | Siebren de Kuiper/Reinhardt Wilhelm
Series: The Weight of Love [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/825501
Comments: 48
Kudos: 125





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this fic, while part of my weight of love series, is a standalone work focusing on Sigma's recovery after being released from his secret government facility. if you're interested in whats going on in the same universe, this is the 5th installment in the series, several of which are completely finished.
> 
> Sighardt wont make an appearance until later in the fic, unfortunately.

The first day that Siebren could really recall was relatively uneventful in its mundaneness that was only matched by its mendacity. He found himself alone in a bedroom that wasn’t at all unlike his tastes, but yet, there were few signs that he’d participated in its personalization. He certainly couldn’t recall personalizing it.

Soft music played in the background, not unlike as though he was standing in a hotel’s lobby. Just soft enough that it was easy to tune out.

Plain sheets and a plain comforter were soft under his touch, and a dresser had signs of use, along with a comfortable looking chair in the corner by the door. There was nothing holding him down, and he had an itch in the back of his mind that told him there should be such devices. He ignored it, and ran a hand through his greasy hair.

There was a bathroom to the side, the boorish tile floor obvious even when unlit, not a long walk from the bed. A vase held white and yellow roses, all of which looked taken care of, though he had never been much of a rose person, always preferring the boldness of sunflowers. He stood, and was shocked when his legs didn’t support his weight, making an involuntary yelp out of surprise. 

The door before the bed opened, and suddenly voices were quite clear, and the music was as well.

“Moira, you can’t be serious.” A deep, guttural male voice made an involuntary shudder go down his spine, as a woman entered the room, seemingly ignoring her companion.

“Gabriel, I am quite capable of handling unstable, dangerous individuals,” She said, giving him a pointed stare, as the man walked in behind her, and red glowing eyes found the other man’s. “You should be very familiar with this already.” 

“He’s awake.” The dark cloaked and masked man rasped, and the woman-Moira- perked up from where she’d been checking on the roses. 

“Ah, Dr. De Kuiper,” Moira addressed him formally, in spite of the way she’d barged into what he had assumed had been his bedroom. “Taken a tumble, have we? Gabriel, help me stand him up.” She jabbed the man with an apparently very sharp elbow, the man giving her a glare, apparent smoke leaking off his form.

This instantly set Siebren’s teeth on edge, and before either of them had moved, before he even understood it, something within him  _ reacted _ to that thing before him with the angel’s name, the tune that had been a hum in the background slamming on an invisible piano’s keys as he closed his hand in a fist.

The space where they stood  _ crunched _ in on itself, but the two seemed to…flicker in and out of tangibility. The man simply turned to smoke, while the woman ceased to be for a moment, before she reappeared exactly where she had been, sighing dramatically as she turned to the vase- the vase…

The flowers were hardly classified as such anymore. Siebren stared at the brown and green…material… left where they’d been. 

The woman had seemed to stop communicating with him, disappointedly touching the substance with an elongated finger. “You see, Gabriel, I’m the only one who  _ can _ safely interact with him, as you’re simply too volatile. However, I am quite disappointed he attacked us today. He’s been much better about at least letting me get him up before he begins. I wonder if it’s your presence?”

Gabriel gave her a flat stare, and then looked at Siebren. “Moira, I look like a monster, of course it’s me.”

“Hardly, Gabriel.” Moira patted his shoulder, before she sighed as the man refused to accept it. “Alright- you might look less than friendly. But  _ your _ getup isn’t helping that image, Gabriel. Your condition is finally stable, but we’re still looking into fixes for the other effects. It’s not an exact science.”

"Stable." The man rolled his head in lieu of rolling his eyes, seeming doubtful. "Right."

“E-excuse me,” Siebren finally found his voice, though the noise hurt, his throat painfully dry. Both suddenly turned and looked at him owlishly, the man’s mask making the parallel almost comical. “Pardon, but…I don’t seem to know where I am…”

The woman broke out in a smug grin, and the man turned away, preparing to leave. “Well, Dr. De Kuiper, I’m so glad you asked. I can explain everything, let's get you up first. Gabriel, I could use a hand. Ever since he’s gotten here he’s put on  _ some _ weight."

“Couldn’t you have stolen my super strength too,” Gabriel mocked, turning around again to help her in spite of his harsh words.

“I've not stolen anything… more that I creatively _repurposed_ things that I found useful.” Moira said back, unbothered as the two of them lifted Siebren off the floor, and back onto the bed. “And even if I had, that wouldn’t stop my bones from breaking or my muscles tearing off from the lack of support of any real strength training.”

“I have official business to take care of.” Gabriel flatly told her, and Moira sighed, waving a hand, nodding knowingly.

“Yes, yes, of course. Business as per usual. Good luck with Lacroix, don’t make me look bad.” She sighed as he left the room, before turning back to Siebren, and holding out a hand to him. “Dr. Moira O’Deorain. Geneticist. You’re currently in my home in Oasis, Iraq.”

Interesting. He couldn’t remember coming to Oasis recently, though he’d definitely visited a few times before when the city was under construction. He took her hand and firmly shook it a few times, before letting go.

“Dr. Siebren De Kuiper, astrophysicist. Though it seems you already know this.” He sheepishly rubbed his neck. “Though I cannot recall how…”

She waved her hand, seeming relaxed. “Of course I know you. Your work in your field is very well known and respected, even in other fields.” She complimented, and he felt embarrassed at having that pointed out. “I’ve introduced myself before as well, but I cannot fault you for having trouble recalling it.”

“We’ve spoken before?” Siebren asked, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu wash over him at her words. 

“Every day for the past 3 months.” Dr. O’Deorain confirmed. “Though typically I do most of the talking. We here…ah,  _ found _ you after your accident.”

“Accident?” The word felt strange in his mouth, but there was that, that  _ itch _ in the back of his head, that tells him that yes, there had been an accident. 

“Tell me the last thing you remember,” Moira sat in the chair, letting the door close with a push from her foot.

“I…” He struggled, that itch getting stronger. “I-is there a way we can turn off the music?”

“Music…?” Dr. O’Deorain tilted her head. “There’s nothing playing, I’m afraid, Dr. De Kuiper. You’ve mentioned this…melody to me before. What does it sound like?”

“I, I don’t know.” He stammered, eyes wide as he struggled with the concept. It- it wasn’t sound, yet it _was_ , and it was everywhere, couldn’t she hear it? How could she not when it was blasting from all angles? “I can't describe it. It’s everywhere.”

“Hm.” Moira tapped her fingers on her knees. “Gabriel’s likely right about you needing a psych consultation. However, we can’t have someone whose body is…well, breakable, in here until you’re better.”

“Psych consultation,” Siebren echoed, spooked out of his internal horror at the music, softening with her stance. “I- that sounds familiar,” He muttered, that itch coming back, reminding him about _restraints_ , the accident.

“What is the last thing you remember?” Moira coolly asked again, seeming unbothered. “Surely not my conversations with you. Perhaps not even the accident, nor what happened after it.” She leaned back in the chair, and watched as he struggled with words.

“I think, I  _ remember _ that I was supposed to do work on the I.S.S.” He numbly recalled, her words hitting something dark in the back of his mind with a  _ thunk _ . “I…I was doing my pioneering experiment. On, on generating a black hole for the purposes of harnessing its power for energy…” The details felt like a static channel on the radio, blocking out the melody. Or perhaps it was the melody, and it really was a radio.

“What happened then, Dr. De Kuiper?” Moira asked, calm, and Siebren looked at her, eyes vacant.

“It,” He started, but couldn’t finish, “It _embraced_ me, but…it was all wrong…”

He remembered being on the floor, his lab equipment and writing utensils floating in the air. He remembered thinking that there was artificial gravity in this room, but they were still floating.

Remembered being taken off the ship, hurried back to earth, everyone talking to him, and then over him in hushed tones.

Couldn’t they hear it?

O’Deorain watched him carefully, as he twitched and lived those broken fragments of existence over again, and eventually she stood, collecting the trashed flowers, and left the room, leaving him alone with the music and a broken mind.

XXXXX

Consciousness and sentience came and went, he knew that because of how often the flowers changed. But from that day forward, he remembered her name, knew where he was, even though it raised more questions than answers. She ducked, dodged, and occasionally ceased to exist through his panicked, subconscious attacks, and almost always prodded about his memories.

It wasn’t glamorous, but he knew that someone had to be cleaning him, and keeping him fed, healthy. From Reyes’ tone whenever he was in the room with her, it seemed like it was always Dr. O’Deorain, though it was completely unrelated to her field.

But apparently it was because of their powers to cease to be tangible that they were here.

“Am I dangerous?” He asked her one day, and the woman simply hummed in her chair, touching where he’d crushed the arm in on itself lightly. 

“Are you?” She asked back, red and blue eyes not betraying a hint of fear. The question directed back at him gave him great pause, not actually knowing the answer.

“I don’t think so.” He eventually decided upon, silence only filled by the music that he’d slowly come to accept was from within him. “But you are the only one in here to help me... _recover_ , as you say. But you’re just a geneticist, not a doctor.” He gave a pregnant pause. "Shouldn't there be a doctor here?"

“Doctors haven’t known what to do with you, Dr. De Kuiper.” She said; her confidence in the statement only softened with some sorrow. “So they gave up and left you to rot. We didn’t think that was fair.”

“We?” Siebren asked, pushing aside the negative feelings in his chest at her words about leaving him to rot, an itch in his mind about restraints and staring at blank walls or, or were they ceilings for hours, days, weeks, months,  _ years _ on end…

“Myself, Gabriel,” She listed off, “And our employers. You’re brilliant, you don’t deserve to be confined somewhere and left behind to rot.”

“Am I not confined?” Siebren asked, genuinely, looking around the room in a bit of confusion. 

“Once you’re willing, I’m more than able to call Gabriel in and we can begin on some physical therapies we had developed for you.” She explained, voice tranquil as she rubbed the part of the chair he’d just destroyed. “I can bring you a wheelchair any time you’d like. In fact, we used to bring you about the place, but you destroyed that first wheelchair two months prior, around the same time I noticed you beginning to sleep more calmly."

“I, I think I’d like that,” He admitted, soothed by her tone, filtering out the second half of her statement. “I can move my legs, but…they’re weak.”

“That you’re able to move your upper body is already excellent progress,” Moira agreed, nodding with him. “You had been confined to a cot for well over a decade.” That statement sent a dark shiver through him, the music dark and grim, a solemn dirge playing for the lost time.

“After my accident,” He clarified, and Moira nodded, calm. 

“Yes. Like I said, doctors didn’t know what to do with you. So they tied you down and left you there. We thought that was a waste.”

“I can’t help but feel that this is a waste, too,” Siebren muttered, sitting up fully. “You have access to a lab, do you not?”

Dr. O’Deorain’s face widened into a smile, “Dr. De Kuiper, my, let me call Gabriel now. We have quite the surprise to show you.”

XXXXX

"We had showed you this before, shortly after your arrival, but you were quick to relapse into a semi conscious state. All that activity after years of none wore you out." Moira stated, pushing him into the lab, and his eyes were huge as he looked about, again, only part of her statement actually making any sense and being processed correctly.

It was a lab, and it was his. Unlike the room, which was bland but decorated, this one was a blank canvas. The equipment and utensils were there, as were delightfully new looking tools and gadgets. He felt like the starry eyed intern he’d been working in the lab back in Uni. 

“You naturally have access to your own lab. I know how personal people’s relationship to their space can be, so while I took it upon myself to get you the necessary resources, I’ve not really put things together yet.” Moira seemed to preen at her work, and he could hardly blame her. "Granted, given your current inability to move in and out of your bed even with the wheelchair by yourself, I'm more than happy to lend my hand or Gabriel's to help you set up fully."

“This is  _ my _ lab?” He wheezed, looking at her incredulously. 

“Like I said, we found you brilliant, and thought your talents wasted while you lay wasting away.” She repeated, and allowed him to take control of the wheelchair, looking about the room in total awe. “Of course, this is hinged on the idea that you’d work for our employers, but, well, we thought you’d be more than amicable to the idea.”

“I am!” He agreed instantly, looking around the room again, hands touching any surface he could. “I, I could get started at once.” He stood, feeling himself get lighter with each moment, disconnected from the fact that he, his utensil, and his wheelchair floated in his delight. “With all of this at my fingertips, imagine the science I could do!”

“I completely agree. What do you think I get up to when I’m not with you?” Moira agreed, seeming pleased. “My lab is next to yours.” She slid him a slim device. “A communicator. It’s got my number in the contacts, as with Gabriel’s, and, ah… a few others, should we be unable to hear you and you require assistance. And Dr. De Kuiper, try not to break anything.” She warned, amused, before turning around and leaving him to his new things, and a giant new space.

Gabriel and Moira spoke outside, and he only vaguely heard them, too caught up in his joyous emotions, too eager to set up his lab to his tastes.

“I cannot understand how your plan is working,” Gabriel growled.

“I  _ believe _ that you and Sombra owe me some money,” Moira hummed. “That’s how I was wooed over. I would _hope_ that someone would recognize my brilliance even if I were to go completely mad, and give me a chance at life again.”

“You say that like you’re not mad right now.” Gabriel retorted, and Moira laughed, her tone low, betraying some kind of darkness under the surface.

“All the better reason for me to understand him then, Reyes.” She said quietly, the two shadows walking down the hall, a sharp violin and a richer sounding viola following them as they left. 

XXXXX

His recovery went much faster and he could remember far more of it once he was waking up for something. There was a lab, and science to do. True, when he got frustrated with something, oftentimes his utensils and occasionally the food Moira brought to him would be crushed under the force of gravity he exuded, but for the most part he didn’t even notice his growing powers that came with his emotions.

And then, one day, Siebren noticed.

“Dr. O’Deorain,” He tapped on her door, sitting awkwardly in the frame in his wheelchair. “I can’t seem to find a few smaller components. I swear they were in my lab, I had them right in front of me.”

The woman glanced over from where she was standing over Gabriel’s still body, seeming to be examining him. “They’re floating behind you.”

“Behind…?” Siebren twisted his head around, and surely, there they were. He couldn’t reach them, but then they moved in front of him, and he yelped. 

Gabriel sat up, his face bleeding with black ooze, additional eyes and teeth lining up and down his chest. “Can you two do this outside,” He growled, long, black talons grabbing at a black cloak. Moira sighed, and she walked over to join him.

“How long have I been able to do that?” He asked her, and Moira hummed.

“It was noted in your medical records.” She squeezed her thin frame out of the doorway, walking outside with him as he turned his chair around to properly go back to his lab. “After your accident, gravitational anomalies started occurring around you. Objects would float, you would float.” She rubbed her fingers together. “And the intensity matched your emotions. When you would anger, you would often destroy things entirely.”

The chair. The flowers….

Crunching of wood, the green organs and delicate soft petals turning to nothing but dead tissue, not even recognizable as, as, as -

Screams, sirens, loud popping noises and shrieks.

A single thought of hurting them for all they’d put him through. _A singular desire for violence the second he was loosened from his restraints by a new figure, red and blue eyes staring down at him with thoughtfulness_ _. Gunshots and the sounds of war outside his room. He understood not a word from her lips, but knew in his core what he wanted, what he **needed**._

_ \- release me - _

“That’s been me the whole time?” Siebren asked, voice very small. “I haven’t hurt anyone, have I?”

“There’s a reason that only myself and Gabriel are here now.” Moira gave her usual placid non-answer, and it sufficed for the time being. “Don’t fret over it. We cannot change our past actions.” Moira pat his shoulder, giving him a seemingly soft, knowing look. “We can only ever look to the future. You’ve made considerable strides recently, especially in your physical therapy. Perhaps we can arrange a visit to the Ministry of Astronomy’s fantastic facilities if we can push a little further with regard to your…powers.”

“What sort of facilities are you thinking of?” He asked, curious. “When I last visited Oasis, the city was still in its beginnings of development. Furthermore, how could you get us into them without others around.”

“I am a minister here.” She explained easily, casual in her delivery in spite of the magnitude of those words. “It’s part of why I have access to such resources as these.” She gestured to the halls, to their two labs. “If you were able, then all I would need to do would be to ask.”

“What, exactly, would I need to be able to do?” Siebren asked, feeling a certain kind of giddiness at the idea of leaving the building he’d inhabited for the past several months, getting the sense in the back of his head it’d been years since he’d seen any kind of sky. 

“They would mainly be upset if you… well, destroyed any delicate equipment, though they’d be unhappy with any destructive outbursts, even the more minor sort.” She tapped gently on a wall, wherein he noticed a dent. “Gabriel’s technically banned in a few parts of the city due to outbursts.”

“That’s it?” He confirmed, confused, and Moira nodded.

“Control of your powers to such a point where…emotional bursts won’t lead to unconscious movements that could harm the facilities.”

It felt silly to ask, but Siebren did regardless. “Does that mean I can go outside?”

Moira paused, her expression frozen, before her eyes considered him for a long moment. “Yes, of course. I’ve never said you were unable to leave, Dr. De Kuiper.”

“Can you give me a hand then, Dr. O’Deorain?” He asked, sheepish, a bit too excited with the prospect to stop himself from floating up and out of the chair.

Moira looked him over thoughtfully, before she extended him a hand. “If your body doesn’t want to be held down, Dr. De Kuiper, perhaps you should listen to it. Your powers allow you to float- why not embrace it?”

Siebren had never considered such a thing before, but the weightlessness of it…the familiarity of it to space, his best home, the home where he was loved.

_The softness of a colleague's touch on his shoulder, the motion too tender to be solely platonic in it's affection, Harold's kind eyes only beaten with the sweetness of his smile, the lines around his eyes crinkling as his sometimes lover wished him luck for his latest endeavor._

The utter lack of restraints, nothing keeping him trapped.

He took her hand, and nodded once. “Let's go outside, then.”

“I have to make it quick, Reyes does need his appointment with me finished.” Moira said, conversationally, walking with him to the door, and he felt the world move around him, unaffected by the earth's gravitational pull altogether.

She pushed open the door, and he was unable to help himself as he willed himself forward, finding himself amazed underneath a sky full of stars. “ _ Good heavens!” _ He exclaimed in his natural tongue, seeing constellations he’d only seen in space and from telescopes. “The sky’s so clear here.”

“They go to great lengths to prevent light pollution.” Moira agreed, staring up at the sky with him. “It’s not a bad view.”

Siebren drew his attention down to earth again, and found they were in a courtyard, a pond in the center, filled with beautiful lotuses, calm on the water's surface, the place looking tranquil and only relatively lived in, a few books lying around, along with a laptop. There was another door, and he presumed that led outside, as he heard the soft noise of city life in the distance. 

“The grounds are all yours to enjoy, Dr. De Kuiper, and should you like, you can go outside, but please ask me before you do. I’ll need to get you a key printed for the house, as well as an access card for the city.” Moira explained, calm. “Would you like to stay out here for the time being? I believe that Sombra has left her spoils here more than once, including a hammock she got as a gag gift, telling me to, ‘chill out,’” Moira said with air quotes matched by her fingers, exasperated with the concept. “Though it is nice when it's warm out, I must admit."

“I think I’ll be alright out here, Dr. O’Deorain.” He told her, settling down to stargaze. He didn’t even know when the last chance he’d had to do so _was_. “You can return to your appointment.”

“Don’t stay out too late,” Moira reminded, nodding at his decision. “Call me if you need a hand getting inside.”

He allowed himself to float down to a world that would _never_ hold him down again, if Moira’s words and actions were anything to go by, and he let himself absorb the sky, the only glimpse backwards into a past he missed a decade of.

XXXXX

Eventually, someone new finally appeared. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Moira, he appreciated her company and genius, able to easily bounce ideas off of her in a way that few others had ever managed.

It was more that he was starting to feel a bit strange, living in what was apparently a private residence with no prior connection to the enigmatic woman.

This thought process was cut off entirely short woman with even more eccentric fashion tastes than Reyes (as the man had gruffly corrected one day) showed up. Her image tickled something in the furthest reaches of his mind.

_\- Are you sure we’ll be able to manage him? -_

_\- He’ll be fine -_

_\- If he’s uncontrollable, doc, we’re in over our heads. -_

_\- You’re the failsafe, Sombra. You can disable him. -_

_\- You should have mentioned that before! How, exactly, am I supposed to stop space cadet over there?! -_

_\- Hack his inhibitors, obviously. According to the records, they installed various devices inside him to more safely sedate him without giving him something external to manipulate into a weapon._ _But hopefully, Sigma, we won’t have to use that. You’ll come along with us, won’t you? Don’t you want to see the stars again? -_

_- **RELEASE ME** -_

_\- We are. Come along now. We can't stay here, you've finally freed yourself from them, are you going to let them imprison you again? -_

“Think fast, space cadet.” She tossed something at him, and Siebren yelped, stopping it midair by halting its momentum entirely, before letting it drop into his lap. She whistled approvingly. “My, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. Seem to have gotten a lot more control over your powers, too."

He paused, looking down at what it was she’d thrown at him, and was surprised to find a Rubik’s cube.

“O’Deorain mentioned you’d gotten better.”

“Speaking of the doctor, where is she?” Siebren asked, concerned. “I haven’t seen her all day. It’s been terribly quiet around here without her or Reyes, for that matter.”

“She had business to attend to with Reyes, actually. A mission.” The woman grinned at him, obviously examining him. “You're still using a wheelchair?”

“It makes more sense for getting around.” He rubbed the metal thoughtfully. “I get tired walking everywhere. I’ll admit, my physical therapy exercises are a bit tedious. I might have…fallen behind on them a bit.”

“Can’t you just, you know.” She jumped midair, emphasizing the motion. “Float?”

“It also requires a significant amount of thought to control.” Siebren gave the flimsy excuse, and the woman shrugged.

“I know if I could float, I’d absolutely do it all the time.” She chuckled. “Like anything, it just takes practice to use it right.” She held up a tiny device, turning it over in her hand, before throwing it out of the room. “I go by Sombra, Dr. De Kuiper. We’ve worked together before, but I understand you don’t recall.”

“I…actually think I might.” He rubbed his head, thinking back. “I have…a strange feeling we have met before.”

“Interesting.” The woman folded her arms, seeming tense all of a sudden. “Dr. O’Deorain didn’t mention that.”

“I’m sorry,” He said, unsure of why he was apologizing. “Do I frighten you?”

Sombra shifted on her feet, giving him a contemplative look. “What exactly do you remember?”

“I just…seeing you, hearing your voice, it made me think of something. I don’t really remember much at all.” He held up his hands innocently enough. “Pardon, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s not you, so much as…” Sombra pursed her lips, stuck on the words. “I’m the one who replaces the vase in your room. It doesn’t escape me that if that’s what you can do to a vase, imagine what you could do to bone. O’Deorain and Reyes have their powers that make them a little bit more gravity proof, but unless I can find someone else willing to give me that power I don’t think I’m gonna be able to be safe if you do decide to lose it."

Moira had always skirted the issue.

“Interesting wording, _decide_ to lose it.” He hummed, contemplating it. “To lose it, I’m assuming you mean to lose control,” He watched purple eyes squint, as though beginning to see where this was going. “Whereas to decide implies control, a decision to lose control of myself, well, I think that’s an oxymoron.” He gives her a smile, before turning conspiratorial. “If she’s out right now, and I have free reign over the lab, why don’t we take a peek around in her work? I’ll admit, I’ve been awful curious myself. And it’ll be nice to have a new colleague around. It can get a little lonely in here!”

Sombra snorted, expression having shifted to disbelieving. “Well then, why didn’t you say that in the beginning?” She placed a hand on his own, and the melody almost _glitched_ , as though there was some type of electronic interference.

“Interesting. Gabriel and Moira’s notes were always so in line with classical.” Siebren muttered, thoughtful. Sombra’s hand lashed away from him, as if he'd given her an electrical shock. “Techno? Electronica? I must say, whatever you’ve done to your body to get it to make such noise is absolutely _fascinating_.”

“One, Gabe doesn’t like to be called that,” She contradicted herself as she spoke, seemingly uncaring that she gave the man an even more casual nickname. “Two, we’re definitely talking about that later, because if you’re saying what I think you’re saying, I might have more use for you than I thought.” She said, interested.

She wrapped an arm around his shoulder, and pointed forward. “Lead the way, Dr. De Kuiper.”

“Of course! Moira’s spent a good deal amount of time working on Reyes in this room up ahead, I’m positive we might be able to scrounge up and read over her research.”

“You know, I think I’m going to like having you as a friend.” Sombra hummed, seeming awfully pleased with herself.

That night, after Moira had gotten back and had found them both in her lab, digging through her research together, she had been anything but pleased with Sombra, but Siebren at least had managed to stay out of her line of fire, and that counted for something, even as it brought his attention to a nagging fact that something was off here.

XXXXX

Sombra came by more often after that, usually when Moira had work elsewhere- though she seldom explained where or what Moira was up to- but unlike Moira, Sombra loved to challenge him. She was far more mischievous than the doctor, and they quickly learned that harnessing his attunement to the melody, he could actually find her while she was invisible.

“Hopefully that means you’re not going to throw something at me mid-mission.” Sombra said around a mouthful of cherries, sitting at her computer in the gardens, working away at a hologram of something after Siebren had gotten tired of his exercises.

She groaned at something on the screen, and rolled off the hammock before Siebren had a chance to ask what exactly she meant by throwing something on a mission. “Sorry, I have to bounce. Someone’s nosing around Numbani looking for me.” She cracked her knuckles. “Time to pay them a visit.”

“Take me along.” Siebren requested, suddenly deeply curious about the outside world. “I know that I probably shouldn’t, but really, if they’re looking for a sleek young and talented hacker, they won’t notice the old man in the wheelchair.”

Sombra hummed, apparently thoughtful of his words, resisting the urge to preen at the obvious compliments meant to butter her up. “Well... Moira will either kill me or Maximilien will give me a pay raise.” She shrugged, and turned his wheelchair to the door. “Don’t say I don’t do anything for you, space cadet.”

“Maybe on the way you can start talking about what sorts of missions I’ll have to do in the future.” Siebren said, something that made Sombra roll her eyes.

“Your job in the future will be to be the big guy in the middle.” She explained coolly as Siebren finally saw the beautiful city of Oasis in it’s full glory, pushed along by a relatively tamed Sombra. “Reyes, O’Deorain, myself, and our other elite members, Lacroix and our leader, Ogundimu, need someone who’s a little bit harder to pin down. All of us are…hmm, uniquely made. We need someone to glue us together, and watch our backs in a more present way than Lacroix can. She’s our sniper.”

_An image came to him from the deep recesses of his mind, when he’d been a young man. There’d been recruitment posters all over European Union for the armies to fight the Omnic Crisis. He was on his way through Germany when he spotted a particularly dashing man with a giant suit of armor on a poster, long flowing blonde hair a stark contrast, the man holding up a large projected barrier. “Be The Shield For Your People! Join The Crusaders!”_

_He’d been in his thirties, well aware of the fact he was enamored with men, and that man in particular had been an absolutely fine specimen of a man._

“A shield.” Siebren absently stated, quiet. “You need a shield.”

“Yeah, and your other unique abilities won’t hurt to have on the field.” Sombra said, though she seemed a bit more on edge. “Make sure you don’t go somewhere I can’t find you, alright? No spacing out on me on mission, Dr. De Kuiper.”

“Oh, right.” He shook his head, giving her an apologetic smile. “Just remembering something. You all need protection on the field. I think that’s fine.”

“We need you for other things too. This is a good first test, just…don’t prove Moira right, that you weren’t ready for this kind of thing.” Sombra huffed.

“Of course, Sombra.” He agreed easily. “I’m just going in and causing a distraction while you attach a bug to someone. How hard could that be?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to people reading it + to those who reviewed it! This take on canon is my baby and i'm super glad to hear yall are enjoying how I'm portraying certain things. hopefully yall continue to enjoy it!

He’d jinxed them, he was certain. Sombra had shown him the target (a strong built woman with bright pink hair who looked almost as out of place in the supremely advanced city as he did in his old school wheelchair.) Sombra couldn’t get closer, as the woman apparently knew her face. But getting close was absolutely difficult, considering that there were omnics and humans everywhere in the bustling city, all seeming to going about their lives.

It boggled the mind, how much time had passed since he’d woken up in Moira’s care. How different everything looked, how different everything was. It struck him that the reason he was using this old school wheelchair was likely because he destroyed the high tech one, but it still made him stand out, a _lot_.

“E, Excuse me, Miss,” He called to the woman, attempting to get her attention in the crowd, realizing how silly that was considering that they were absolutely surrounded, and many people- omnic and human alike, turned to him questioningly.

A memory floated around him, of being just as unable to relate to others beforehand. Of Harold laughing at him, pointing out that he can’t just talk science to others at the department. This was a social function; astrophysics doesn’t play into that function.

And of course, the woman was able to keep walking where he wasn’t. He kept himself firm in the wheelchair regardless, knowing that floating was the wrong way to draw attention here.

As much as the world had improved in terms of accessibility, the city wasn’t built for actual wheelchairs, but their hovering counterparts.

Siebren sighed harshly as Zaryanova vanished in the crowd. “Sombra, I lost sight.”

“Don’t worry, Dr. De Kuiper, you did exactly what I needed you to do.” Sombra reassured over comms. I’ve already gotten what I’ve wanted from this. Whoever said I needed you to distract Zaryanova?”

The crowd! Oh, that made far more sense. Siebren realized, settling back in his wheelchair and turning around, preparing to head back to the ship.

“Analyzing facial structure,” A robotic voice graced his ears, and Siebren froze entirely as he stared down an Idina model from the crisis, albeit heavily modified. “Identified, Dr. Siebren De Kuiper, renowned astrophysicist.”

“Oh my goodness,” A young face from the crowd met his gaze, smiling from ear to ear. “I thought you looked familiar!”

She approached him quickly, extending her hand to be shook, something that he did almost thoughtlessly. “Efi Odalede.” She introduced, and he remained a bit bewildered, before he collected himself.

“My apologies, the omnic with you surprised me. It’s not every day you see an old OR-14 unit!” He said, cheerful, and Efi looked to the robot curiously.

“Greetings, Dr. De Kuiper, I am Orisa.” The omnic cordially introduced herself, and Siebren swallowed any misgivings. “While Efi specializes in robotics, she is well versed in many forms of scientific literature.”

The young girl’s cheeks darkened with embarrassment, looking to the omnic and shaking her head. “I was working with the Tobelstein reactor, I understand that you worked on it at some point while you were preforming you experiments on the horizon…If I asked you for a second opinion, could you take a moment- and only a moment- to talk with me about it?”

“The Tobelstein?” He perked up at the interest in science from a young mind. “Why yes, though I can’t imagine why someone so young would be handling one.”

“Space cadet, look behind them.” Sombra said over the comms, and he managed to handle his reaction when he saw the poster nearby, showing off the young girl before him as someone who had been granted the Adawe Foundation’s genius grant for her work in A.I. and robotics.

“Oh,” He said, as the girl sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck.

“So, the Tobelstein!” She said, getting closer. “We can chat over coffee at Kafi Aromo over there.”

“I’m more than happy to, but aren’t you a little young for coffee,” He asked, and she bashfully smiled, while Sombra groaned.

“Ugh, I’ll send you some credits. This is _embarrassing_ to listen to, you know.”

“It’s always nice to see young minds so interested in science!” Siebren said to them both, pushing himself towards the café, until the omnic offered to push him, something he reluctantly took her up on, the young scientist seeming pleased with herself.

XXXXX

He and Efi wound up chatting about various pieces of her work over the next hour and a half, the young girl seeming absolutely delighted to have someone as well versed in physics as she was. The girl truly was a genius, by all accounts.

Eventually, though, she seemed sated talking with him to work out any potential problems with prolonged use of the miniature Tobelstein reactor inside Orisa (which had been a long discussion about the potential benefits and consequences of trying to update the outdated system herself, with Siebren having to remind her that altering gravity was very dangerous without the correct equipment and lab setting.)

“You know, our textbook actually doesn’t mention what you’ve been doing more recently, Dr. De Kuiper.” She said, eyes bright. “I’d love to hear about your current research. The outcomes of your last well known experiment aren’t really written about either.”

“A-Ah, well.” He paused, trying to find the correct way to say this. “Like I said, Miss Odalede. Working with gravity comes with a lot of potential risks, all of which I knew prior to the experiment.” He gestured to his wheelchair, deciding to let that do the explaining for him, rather than try and actually recall what happened that day.

Efi’s expression suddenly lost its excited glimmer, as somber understanding worked its way through her. “Oh.” She said, deflating, seeming uncertain about how to respond.

“I’m quite alright though, as you can see.” He reassured her, not liking that inkling of fear in her eyes, as though suddenly realizing how much danger she could have put herself in. “And this wasn’t from a Tobelstein, heaven’s no.” He laughed, shaking his head. “No, I was on the I.S.S. because I was trying to recreate the power of a black hole in a more… _real_ way than the Tobelstein does.”

That answer feels right, and it feels strange that after months of not being certain what all led up to the accident, it came out in a blurted attempt to not make the girl afraid of her own work, of the curiosity in her heart.

“As for what I’m currently working on, well.” He laughed, a bit nervous. “A couple of different things, really. In spite of the failure of the experiment, I did…develop something curious.” He leaned in conspiratorially, and so did Efi, her eyes finally having lost that look of fear. He put forward his hands, grabbing the pieces of small technology he’d been working on back in Oasis, and focused hard, before uncovering the device. Efi stared in wonder, her jaw dropping as she watched his hypersphere dance in his hand, the metal alive under the force of the gravity. “Amazing, isn’t it?” He said, smiling. “The universe truly does give things in the strangest of ways.”

“How is it moving like that?” Efi asked, hand reaching out nervously. “Is there some sort of programming? Are those nanomachines?”

“No, not at all.” He denied. “These are essentially gravity in its purest essence. I don’t quite think I’ve got the write up ready to explain how I make it work yet. But this is just a taste of what I’ve been working on.”

“Where _are_ you working now? I’m assuming not the moon.” Efi asked, curious, and Siebren shrugged.

“I don't think this looks like the moon, no.” He offered her a smile, before turning a bit somber, remembering that Moira had shown him that the Lunar Colony itself was inaccessible and everyone who had been there with him was dead and gone one day, when he’d been asking after his old colleagues. “Actually, I’m currently working in a lab next to a colleague in Oasis. She’s a brilliant geneticist, I actually think you two would actually get along very well!” He reasoned, recalling easily that Moira was similarly intelligently inclined to picking up whatever science she put her effort into.

“In _Oasis,_ ” Efi’s jaw dropped, eyes basically sparkling. “I’d love to visit one day. The city’s so beautiful in all of the photographs.”

“I’m more than certain that you’re exactly the kind of person they want, not just to visit, but to feature as a visiting scientist.” Siebren chuckled, gesturing to Orisa knowingly. “You’ve got quite the handle on your field, and you’re only 12! Quite the start up, you are.” He rubbed his neck. “I think when I was 12, I was still only an amateur astronomer."

“Space Cadet.” A voice came from behind him, Sombra coming up to him, her arms folded, dressed casually with a large sunhat covering up most of her cranial implants, her eyes glowing purple from her body mods. “Finally found you.”

“Ah, nice of you to join us,” Siebren said, turning to her, and Sombra extended a hand to Efi Odalede.

“I’m Dr. De Kuiper’s assistant, Miss Odalede.” Sombra introduced, accent wiped clear from her tone, the young girl staring at her with curiosity, definitely noticing her various body modifications. “Olivia Colomar, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Unfortunately, Dr. De Kuiper and I have to be going.”

“I didn’t mean to keep him from work.” She seemed like it occurred to her then, that he’d likely not been in Numbani for pleasure, and Siebren waved a hand, reassuring her.

“You didn’t at all! It was a pleasure talking to you.” Siebren said as he pulled himself back from the table, Orisa pushing the chair back in that had been before. “Erm, Olivia, do you know if we have a business card we can hand my esteemed colleague here?”

Sombra pursed her lips, before sighing, fishing through her back pockets. “You know, if you’re going to network, best that you do it when you have things yourself.”

She took out a piece of scratch paper, and jotted down something on it. “This is my number,” She pointed to the top digits with her finger. “Call it if you _need_ _anything_ ,” She emphasized, something fierce tucked away just behind her gaze. “The bottom one is Dr. De Kuiper; though, I have to warn you, he’s a terrible texter.” She snickered at him as he flushed at the criticism. “Double, triple, quadruple texts galore.”

Efi tucked the paper away in her pocket, and they waved, and went on their way.

Siebren allowed enough distance between himself and the bot to first, breathe, and then ask. “So, Olivia Colomar, hm?”

“It’s a fake name.” Sombra brushed off, hardly blinking. “I’m our covert infiltrator. What did you think about our bosses pet project?” She asked, and Siebren turned his head around in his wheelchair to look at her properly, confused about that. She nodded. “Our boss- right, you’ve not met him since…well, Ogundimu has a vested interest in that girl. He’s the one who nominated her for the grant, even.” Sombra whispered that to him, quiet.

“I think she’s well deserving of it, even if someone else put her forward.” Siebren acknowledged. “She’s simply brilliant, a prodigy in her own right. I look forward to seeing what she does with her gifts.”

“That’s Ogundimu’s thought, too.” Sombra’s fingers gripped on the back of his chair.

“…Sombra, by any chance, are you protective of that girl?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, and she pulled away entirely.

“No,” She denied, reflexively. He took a long look at her, at a young face and a myriad of body implants. “I’m just keeping tabs on things. It’s a good thing to have your finger on as many leads as you can.”

“You must have been very young when the Crisis started.” He realized, ignoring her words to understand the meaning underneath it. “Maybe you weren’t yet born, even.” He looked back, at where Orisa and Efi had long since vanished into the crowd, the coffee shop far behind them now.

Sombra’s grip on his chair was tight, and he put a hand back on it, twisting around.

He didn’t have to say his thoughts, her refusal, the deep pain underneath the angry denial.

She could have been that girl, when she was that age. But the world had been stolen from her by circumstances outside of his control. Not for the first time in his life, he felt the weight of failure on his generation’s shoulders. He’d been 32 when the Crisis broke out. Almost 40 when it was over.

They were silent the rest of the way back to Oasis, Sombra sitting heavy on her thoughts, enigmatic to Siebren.

Distantly, something itched in the back of his mind.

~~Was it really that she was jealous of robbed opportunities of her youth?~~

~~(did she fear the girl becoming as she was now)~~

XXXXX

“I cannot believe the two of you.” Moira seethed from across the room, pacing back and forth, still dressed in that rather odd looking outfit, entirely different from her usual garb of button ups, white coats and unbothered slacks, this get up looked more in line with what he usually saw Reyes donning.

“It worked.” Sombra shrugged. “He did exactly as he was asked, kept himself together in the midst of a civilian population, and the mission went off without a hitch.”

“An unauthorized mission to Numbani is not what Talon had in mind for Dr. De Kuiper’s first mission as part of our official strike team.”

“But where better to make sure he won’t just…you know. Turn loose?” Sombra pointed out, and Reyes, from his spot on the wall, nodded thoughtfully.

“She has a point, Moira.” Reaper rasped, standing up straight, holding his side carefully. Moira gave him a worried look, before flitting her attention back to them both.

“Point or not, to not go through any official access channel to access Dr. De Kuiper for a mission.”

“Uh, not to pull rank here, Doc, but as Talon’s defacto head of cyber security, I am my own access channel.” Sombra folded her arms. “I have every right to use any and all of Talon’s available resources to accomplish my missions. Dr. De Kuiper happened to both be available and willing.”

Moira crossed her arms, seeming deeply unhappy with it all. “You are _both_ lucky that it went smoothly.” She hissed, turning her back on them all. “Reyes, come. We have your treatments to do.”

Sombra let her walk away, shrugging as she grabbed her things. “I’ll debrief you later, Boss.”

“Sombra. Dr. O’Deorain has her reasons for everything. At least tell her where you’re going next time,” Reyes rasped, lowly as Sombra walked past him, a hand reaching out, holding her in place. “What would you have done if he’d gotten out of hand?”

“I thought I was the failsafe?” She asked, voice equally low, quiet.

Reaper’s red eyes found Siebren’s blue, before looking back to her. Siebren really had to listen in to hear, and even then, he didn’t understand.

“That doesn’t explain what you’d do from there. She’s right about one thing. _He’s_ lucky it went smoothly.”

Reyes let her go then, and Sombra seemed to tense up, as if deep in thought, before she jerked her shoulder roughly, as if pulling away in spite of the fact he wasn’t holding onto her. She stalked away, vanishing from sight. Reaper looked up at him, before turning to follow Moira out the other door, the two never far from the other.

He was left alone with his lab and thoughts and no line connecting them.

Siebren waited for Moira to return with her wrath, but it never came, and he slowly forgot it in the face of his work and the all-consuming freedom of it all.

XXXXX

Sombra didn’t come back for some time, though it was hard to keep track of such things. Reyes was gone more often than not, and even Moira seemed tense in her work. He understood that something was wrong with Reyes, but Moira never elaborated further on it.

While he recalled with more ease the amount of time he’d spent here, and he knew by now that this place was his home, and he was able to get himself out of bed, and through the mundanities of the morning, Moira still showed herself into his room in the morning.

“Ah, Dr. De Kuiper, it’s a pleasure to see you’re awake already.” Moira said easily, letting herself in after he’d made himself decent.

“You know, Dr. O’Deorain, I think that we’ve known each other long enough that you can call me by my first name, while we’re off the clock.” Siebren commented, and something in her expression flickered.

“Well, Siebren.” She said, not extending him the same courtesy, but to no matter. “We have a new guest staying with me for the moment. When you have a minute, I’d like to introduce you to her.”

Without another comment, Moira walked out of the room, her gaze focused down, strangely subdued.

Siebren donned his lab coat, and felt that, today was the day he’d rely on his powers. His wheelchair would be close by if he needed it, but, today, he would stand.

He focused inwards, and hovered upright in the next few moments, marveling at his freedom from the confines of the earths surface.

Moira was sitting in her garden, papers strewn across a table. “Ah, Dr. De Kuiper.” She said coolly as he entered. “Meet our other colleague, Agent Lacroix.”

He had to school his expression back out of shock at seeing her blue skin and long dark hair, amber eyes glancing him over harshly. “So he has improved. I’m sure our superiors will be pleased.”

“They’ve already received some of the fruits of his labor.” Moira confirmed, looking over papers. “He’s at the very least ready for combat training. I’ve come to understand that Sombra has gotten him started, but she can be flighty, and I’ve not seen her since she last left.”

“I take it that’s why I’m here.” Lacroix’s amber eyes flickered to Moira, who nodded, not even looking up.

“Gabriel has other business to attend to in Egypt.” She dully confirmed. “And you don’t have his temper.”

“What a bore.” She removed her bags.

“You _owe_ me a favor, Lacroix.” Moira reminded, and the woman’s eyes narrowed, before turning fully to Siebren.

“Prepare yourself- I won’t repeat myself.” Was all she said before the dainty looking woman launched herself at him, evidently planning on teaching him hand to hand combat, of all things.

That wasn’t the only thing that shocked him. When Lacroix touched his skin, not only was hers like ice, but there was no melody at all.

Only white noise- and not even that. Just a gaping, empty void of nothingness.

He yelped as he was pushed to the ground, and Lacroix stood straight, obviously waiting for the man to return to his feet before continuing training.

“Dr. De Kuiper, she’s going to be better than you, this has been her job for years. Try and figure out how you can take her blows.” Moira suggested, standing herself, removing her lab coat and gloves.

For the first time, he got a very good look at Moira’s right arm, and the purple veins and sickly skin, as Moira took up her position across from Lacroix. The blue skinned woman launched herself at Moira, and unlike Siebren, who had stood there and done nothing, Moira used the leanness of her body to deftly avoid the blows, and occasionally grabbing Lacroix with that purple hand of hers to stop blows that she couldn’t dodge, and when finally, it seemed like Lacroix would knock her down, Moira vanished into thin air, and reappeared behind Lacroix, the two of them back in their original sparring position.

Moira dropped her stance, and turned back to Siebren. “I’m also no fighter by nature. Gabriel had to pretty painstakingly teach me how to exist on the battlefield when I first started working for him almost a decade ago now.” She sighed, sitting back down. “Use every part of your body that you can to your advantage, and think about how you can use your opponents body as well. I’m naturally pretty lithe, so I can be harder to hit. I can use my abilities to escape and reposition as well. You, on the other hand, are large enough that you can theoretically take her blows- she cannot knock you over unless you allow it, Siebren, you control your own gravity field. Start thinking about how you might use that to your advantage.”

She stalked back to her table, and Lacroix resumed her stance, looking to Siebren as though she was eyeing up a potential meal.

She certainly wasn’t kidding when she said she didn’t repeat herself, as she immediately started back up without warning.

XXXXX

The next several weeks held harrowing experiences where Moira and Lacroix (who also was occasionally referred to as Widowmaker or, even rarer, Amélie) spent hours a day training him to fight. For whatever purpose, he neither knew nor could rationalize, but they said he needed it if he was to participate in missions fully, and Moira hadn’t yet led him wrong.

For the most part, he understood that it was hand-to-hand _only_ , though occasionally, Widowmaker instructed him to use his powers. The woman never made a sound, her amber eyes alight, and never seeming to tire or hurt in spite of the fact he –occasionally- must have really hurt her, his hyperspheres hitting her in her core.

Moira would quickly call off training, to Widowmaker’s annoyance, and patch them both up.

There was no way he was ever going to be the sort of fighter that Widowmaker obviously was- but it definitely got him moving a lot quicker than he’d gotten used to in the lab, confined to his wheelchair. In fact, his confidence in his mobility grew so fast that he oftentimes forgot about its existence entirely.

Perhaps that was the real goal of this, he wondered as he narrowly dodged a fast kick, and she threw something at him that he reached out a hand to _catch_ , and realized that it was moving too fast.

He closed his eyes, and focused on, on something, on _absorbing the momentum, he’s done this before, what was that equation again, how did he do that before?_

He felt _nothing_ , and the action stopped.

Moira clapped from her seat in the garden, Widowmaker standing tall, impressed with his work, and he found himself staring at the gaping void itself.

The power of a black hole at his finger tips.

He smiled, and then laughed, falling to the ground, his head aching as the music filled his very body, Lacroix’s frightening, absorbing silence being interrupted by something soft, sad and melancholy clarinet, not entirely unlike the titular theme of, well, it almost sounded like-

\- In the next moment, he is in darkness, surrounded by stars, and a young woman was poised on a lone ballet shoe, a headless man holding her softly, yet firmly around her stomach, the woman leaning forward in an elegant dip, before rising up, and he watched the beautiful, only vaguely familiar woman take a grand leap into the air, the headless man suddenly vanishing into the stars around them.

The white dressed ballerina fell to the invisible ground that he stood on, collapsed, unsupported, as if she was but a marionette whose strings had been cut.

Siebren took a step forward, and the broken marionette before him looked up with her cracking porcelain face, tears streaming from vacant amber eyes behind a the veil held up by the white swan’s crown. He reached out a hand to help her to her feet.

His hand was harshly grabbed by a cold grasp, and he was forcibly turned around, and the matching face of the black swan glared at him in anger, before the two of them fell into step together, his body moving unknowingly through the motion with her, the black swan elegantly dancing with him, as the defeated white swan held the body of her misled prince on the floor, her tears turning to stars around them, the melody ending with the dramatic symphony of the swan lake’s titular theme, and the Black Swan in his arms- Lacroix- leaned back in an exceptional dip, her expression blank, her hair falling out of its carefully maintained bun while blood streamed from her fingers, blood he as her partner ignored to lift her up from the dip, and pull her into a falsely intimate hold, as the scene ended, and the world turned black.

XXXXX

He woke up in his bed like he usually did, but in doing so, he found Moira already there, talking as though she’d been here for a while. “And so, of course, Reyes, being the intelligent man he is, decided to blindly go in and naturally got his body turned back into a swarm of nanomachines and his own smoke. Ridiculous, absolutely stupid of him. What was he thinking- that was the sort of mission meant for Sombra; _not_ him.” She scoffed, shaking her head. “And of course he comes crawling back to me, needing to put him back together. _Again_. And he has the audacity to complain about his sensitivity to electricity.”

“Dr. O’Deorain?” He said, blinking, realizing that he was in fact already sat up. “I’ve heard this story before- I, I was there for it. You ripped into Reyes for a week afterwards, I remember.”

He looked down at his sheets, and noticed that…they were a new color, a cream rather than the white they’d been before. He checked the flowers, and found that the vase was new, and indeed, the roses that had been there before had been replaced with begonias and azaleas.

Moira looked at him curiously. “So you remember that now, mm?” Her demeanor changed quickly. “Interesting. You weren’t very talkative back then,” She commented, and Siebren recalled, as if behind a veil, that he hadn’t been. He’d been sitting in his- not his, it, it was different- wheelchair, and he’d not said a word at all while the two strangers in front of him known as Moira and Reaper argued about some place called Gibraltar and how that mission had been intended for Sombra, so why, on earth, had he felt the need to go fight the monkey personally."

His fingers rubbed the sheets. “I suppose I do. Gibraltar, right? We weren’t here, I don’t think.”

Moira nodded, slowly. “Correct, we were in Rome at that time. Reyes and I had work to do in Europe, and really, you weren’t even assigned to me yet.” Moira scoffed. “Vialli had insisted on trying to keep you around himself.”

_The name struck a cord, of a short man in an Italian business suit lording over him behind walls of glass, Moira standing behind him, unimpressed by his posturing._

_\- You know Sigma’s not a toy, Vialli. –_

_\- And yet, Dr. O’Deorain, the council has elected he fall under my jurisdiction. –_

_Moira snorted, the noise almost impossible to hear. The man looked at her, eyes narrowed._

_\- Be careful, Dr. O’Deorain. I’d hate for **your**_ _toy to be elected off the council. –_

_\- Scared that you’ll follow in your mentor’s footsteps? Or really, perhaps, fall in his imprint? –_

_\- I saw the look on his face today, O’Deorain. He’s not all there. One toe out of line and he’ll be mine too. –_

_The next time he’d seen the woman, she almost seemed to gloat._

_\- Not having fun with your **toy** , Vialli?” –_

_\- Take it. –_

_\- What? –_

_\- Take it out of my sight. I’ve poured too many resources into this fool’s errand. Take it and we can forgive today’s insubordination. –_

_\- What insubordination, I’ve done nothing to earn such remarks. –_

_\- It would be so very easy, Dr. O’Deorain, to get you off this council, is all. Your only ally could be so easily manipulated against you. –_

_Moira was silent, and she turned to him, dual eyes looking him over- she was, shorter than him, he was floating, wasn’t he wheelchair bound?_

_\- What’d you try and do with him? I need to know only so that I have a starting point. –_

_\- Manipulating him through his implants hasn’t worked as effectively as previously theorized. We can usually get him going, but forcing him to stop, or even care about who he’s targeting is too much effort. So take it, and get it out of my sight. You might even be able to do something with it to make it some degree of useful. –_

_\- Come along now, Sigma. –_

_\- At worst, it’s two loons with one stone. –_

_Vialli muttered that under his breath, and Moira gestured him to follow, ~~sigma~~ recognized her as, as ally. She’d led him out before, to the sun, she’d do it again._

“You were assigned to me long after those particular meetings. We’d worked a little bit together beforehand, seeing as I have a hand in each of Talon’s elite operatives, so you might remember me tearing into Reyes in my lab in Rome, while you were also there.”

“I can’t really recall any of that.” Siebren mumbled, rubbing his head. “It’s all… fuzzy.”

Moira’s face was unreadable, and she looked away. “Well, Lacroix had other business to attend to, Reyes is still away in Egypt, and Sombra’s gone to back him up, I assume.” She murmured, quiet. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

As though hearing her name shook the memory clear, he recalled he’d been sparring with her. “I was, sparring with Lacroix when, I summoned a black hole. It, it absorbed me, embraced us both. Instead of fighting, we were, we were dancing. Where’s that other woman, there were two…” He mumbled, rubbing his head.

“What other woman?” Moira asked, growing concerned, her attention snapping back to his face.

“She, she looked like Lacroix, but Lacroix was also there. The woman was in white, her skin, this… cracking porcelain doll in the middle of nothing.” He explained his vision, Moira turning a bit pale herself. “She’d been dancing with, with a headless man. He vanished, and she collapsed, but Lacroix turned up and stopped me from helping her.”

Moira had an anxious arm in front of her; the hand wrapped tight around the crook of her elbow, quiet, her expression almost horrified.

“Lacroix didn’t mention any such thing to me, afterwards.” Moira murmured, quiet, not invalidating what he saw, simply telling him what Lacroix had done. “That must have been…quite the experience.” She rubbed the crook of her elbow. “I’ll discuss it with Lacroix, when I have the opportunity. Thank you for telling me.”

She stood, apparently shaken, and moved to walk out of the room.

“Dr. O’Deorain.” Siebren said, and she paused. “How long have I been out of it?”

At first, Moira said nothing, but she eventually turned, and bit her lip, shifting uneasily. “A few weeks, Siebren.” She admitted, quiet, unable to deny him the answer in spite of how it sat uneasily in his stomach, imagining weeks where he again lost more time. “I think that all the activity just took it out of you. Lacroix certainly took the time to enjoy Oasis as if she were on a vacation.” She informed him, before walking out of the room, back too straight, her grip on herself tight, as if frightened by something.

XXXXX

That night, Siebren woke up in a cold sweat, whispers of a darker power clear in his ear, the music fading away as he grounded himself back in his bed. It was clearly still night, as the room was dark, and the hallway lights were off.

The nightmare slipped away from him as soon as he woke, but he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking, skin too warm as he felt dark fireworks burst against his eyelids, the dark the thing to be hiding from, not hiding in.

It, it almost….it almost looked like…

~~blood anger fury hurt harm kill torture revenge~~

~~A man behind him, ordering him to, to…do something.~~

_~~\- yes that's it sigma, take your revenge –~~_

He bolted out of the bed, not wanting to dwell on it any longer. Something about his breakthrough knocked something loose, but it was just out of reach, it just felt terribly wrong, like a yawning void filled to the brim with teeth.

The lights outside his room turned on as he floated past them, and he barely noticed, just wanting to go outside, and see the stars. It was hardly his first night terror, and he doubted it would be his last. This was especially clear, though.

He rubbed his arm, thinking hard of Moira’s, wondering what it all meant, the answers just out of reach.

Siebren was therefore, incredibly surprised as he walked outside when he found Moira out in her garden, her legs dipped into her pond, gently touching one of the lotus’ petals.

“Goodness, Dr. O’Deorain, what are you doing up?” He asked, and the woman’s fingers dragged from the petal to her lap as she sighed.

“I could ask you the same.” She murmured. “You _can_ call me Moira while we’re off work, Siebren.”

“Sorry,” He reflexively said. “Well, I’m awake because of a little night terror. I have found that looking to the moon could calm me, remind me of better times.” He floated carefully forward. “Might I join you?”

“Of course.” She murmured, thoughtful. “Better times, mm?” She stared upwards as well. “I suppose the moon holds the same for me.”

“Memories of people who mattered?” Siebren asked, and Moira nodded quietly.

“It’s nothing compared to the tragedy of the Horizon Lunar Colony, but, well…” She trailed off as she rubbed the crook of her elbow thoughtfully, the gesture so obviously done when she was nervous.

He sat next to her on the edge of the pool, and put his feet into the water, staring up at the crescent moon.

“It doesn’t just make me think of my many lost colleagues.” Siebren admitted, getting an inkling of what she meant. “Sometimes I regret focusing so much on science, never settling down. I wonder, if our lives had been different, would he be here with me now?”

Moira took in a sharp breath, looking to him thoughtfully. “Did you…love him?” She asked, quiet, and Siebren let out a nostalgic sigh.

“On nights like this, I like to imagine I did.” He murmured. “I’m hardly an expert on the subject, though. It might have been nothing but stress relief. I’ll never get answers though, as he’s…gone, from this world, onto the next.”

Moira looked to her hands, and then back up at the moon. “I wish that I could have it like that.” She murmured. “On nights like this, I like to imagine that I didn’t.” She faltered. “Love her, that is.”

Siebren watched as pained emotions played across her face, and Moira’s fingers traced the delicate blossom. “For as much as I talk about myself, Moira, I hope you know that you can talk to me as well.”

She gave him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“I don’t talk about it much to anyone.” She murmured, quiet. “Reyes and I sometimes do, but…it’s not even a _certainty_.” A long fingernail twirled circles into the waters surface. “I’m told she died, and yet, there’s never been any proof of it.” She admitted, soft. “No body, no real grave. Gabriel looked for her himself, tirelessly, and nothing ever came up. It was as if she vanished. Now there are reports, saying that she’s alive, but again…no body, no proof. I don’t know what to believe.”

"So she's simply alive and dead at the same time until we can observe otherwise." Siebren said, trying to understand her point, and Moira hummed, turning away from him.

“I suppose so.” She said to the stars, quiet. “I don’t really know what I felt about her. It feels…wrong, to call what we had love. But her absence _haunts_ me. I can feel it throughout my whole body.” She gripped a lotus, and crushed it in her hand, before releasing it, the crumpled flower sadly floating on the surface.

“I planted this garden because these were her favorite flowers.” She admitted, soft, as she regretfully stared at the results of her lashing out at the delicate blossom. “And yet, Ana Amari never told me that. I only learned…from someone else, long after her disappearance. In spite of how, on nights like this, we’d sit as you and I do now, and talk, as you and I do now. No pretenses, no… morning to fear.” She faltered over something, and he ignored it to listen to her next words. “I come here now, and pretend that perhaps, she’ll come too, some day. They remind me of her.” She pulled her legs up out of the water, up to her chest.

“I suppose, though, even if she were here, I wouldn’t have answers either.” She said into them, giving into her weakness. “The last night we shared like this, we…came together, only to break apart. For good.” She closed her eyes. “It was a mistake, in her words.”

Siebren’s heart ached for Moira in that moment, and he realized that she, too, must wonder what it could have been like if she’d been able to have something like love, too devoted to science and her goals to chase after it.

“You know,” Siebren murmured, changing the subject, gently nudging his shoulder with his own. “I think you owe me a trip to the planetarium here.”

Moira stared at him incredulously, her eyes suspiciously glossy, before she laughed, quiet.

“I suppose I do. And they’re definitely closed right now, so…I don’t see the harm in going.” She rubbed her eyes. “It’s certainly going to be more exciting than sitting here, thinking about old ghosts.”

“More a Schrodinger’s cat in your case.” He commented, and her smile became more genuine, even as she rolled her eyes, standing and gesturing for him to follow her out into the city.

The planetarium was every bit as technically advanced as he had imagined it to be. The projector had some very prestigious technical qualifications, and the museum around it featured almost all of his scientific work as it discussed his research on Black holes, the modern projects of the I.S.S. and its subsidiaries, the work done by Lucheng, Interstellar, and a lengthy discussion of the Horizon Lunar Colony specifically.

“You’re a fan of David Bowie, yes?” He asked, already knowing the answer, and Moira coughed, giving him an incredulous stare as he turned on the music in the background.

“I was expecting you to want to listen to classical,” Moira admitted as he turned on the dome’s projector, the dome above them turning into a beautifully rendered night sky. He quickly entered in his coordinates in space, and found himself staring at the earth from the surface of the Horizon.

“I hear classical music enough!” He laughed, quiet, offering Moira a hand. The woman laughed again, incredulous, shaking her head as guitars played around them, and he thought hard on their shared pain, both missing someone they’d never love again.

“Really, Starman?” She asked, bemused, taking his hand, the two of them awkwardly knocking into each other’s shoulders as they slowly fall into step, two individuals who- frankly- had no right dancing.

“I’d be a bad astrophysicist if I didn’t play into some small indulgences.” Siebren confided, pushing one hand forward while the other pulled itself in, Moira mirroring his work and his steps, her expression almost unreadable if not for some vague sadness.

He twirled her around, the woman a surprisingly good follower in spite of her headstrong personality, and she followed his gestured into his chest, the two of them doing a slow two step as the stars in the dome moved around them, neither of them particularly good, but it was an excellent way to get their minds off their respective heartache.

He got a certain crazy idea in his head, and felt the world slip out from under his feet as he lifted them into the air, Moira laughing breathlessly as the world moved from beneath her, Siebren slow dancing with her mid-air, the woman putting her head against his chest, her hands trembling as she held fast to him, something not unlike tears leaking from her eyes, though he wouldn’t pry any further as David Bowie sang around them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was originally going to include more and therefore we'd have less chapters. However, word count climbed to well past like 15k for the planned content, so I split it, and then split it again.

“We have to include him eventually, Moira.” Reyes said, voice heavy on the other side of the door.

“Include me in what, Reyes?” Siebren asked as he pushed the door open, and Reyes slid back on his mask while Moira sighed.

“There’s a mission. Ogundimu wants to see you put into action.” She listlessly explained. “Just you and Reyes on the ground, Sombra on support, navigating everything indoors from a relatively safe location.” She sat up straight, and looked onwards. “Plans are being moved into motion, and they want you involved.”

“I’m fine with that,” He nodded, easily. “Sombra mentioned that you would sometimes need me to be the ‘big guy in the middle,’ as she called it.”

“Yes, well, Reyes here doesn’t need another incident where he’s tanking everything himself.” Moira hummed, giving Reyes a knowing look. “And he could certainly do with not taking the full blow of another mech.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I know I’m hardly the best field operative, Reyes, but I’ve got plenty of experience working with you, especially under pressure.” She frowned, before looking at her hands. “This stinks, is all, Reyes.”

“Like I said,” He grumbled, folding his arms. “They probably want to see what he can do, without you around to help.”

“With you in the line of fire if it all goes wrong.” She grumbled, shaking her head. “Right, well, I’ve made my displeasure known.” Moira stood up, grabbing documents off the table. “Gabriel, Siebren, good luck; be careful.” She fixed them both a hard look before she turned to the other door, heading back to her lab. “Don’t break each other.”

XXXXX

It's a haze after he puts on his red helmet, Gabriel Reyes lost beneath the mask the same way that he was.

~~sigma, kill them~~

~~of course, reaper~~

~~bodies collapsing into themselves as the universe opened up its teeth filled maw and chewed and chewed and feasted on their corspes as gabriel did the same~~

~~they went at it until all was quiet and still, and reyes looked at him behind that skull faced mask and laughed, lowly, about how he could relax, now they were alone they weren’t surrounded by any more enemies~~

~~sigma that's enough, sombra’s voice came in over the phone but he choked on his words at her tone sharp and disconnected as he was from his body as he was from the violence before him as he always was~~

~~am i dangerous he asked them and siebren shuddered and cried under the weight of it all as he stood over the crushed plants and the broken chair and the broken bodies and the blood that spilled over lacroix over him over sigma~~

~~why am i being imprisoned?~~

~~releaseme~~

He came back to himself with Sombra standing in front of him, her eyes squeezed tight together as she held his shoulders.

“Dr. De Kuiper.” She said, shaken, Reaper standing back up from the floor, from, from where…

He couldn't recall, but Sombra snapped her fingers, breaking him out of his growing fear again. “Space cadet, it’s okay. Mission’s done. Please. Stay with me for a second.” She urged, and Siebren looked back at her, almost sick to his stomach.

“I’m here, Sombra.” He confirmed, and she breathed out a huge sigh of relief.

“Alright, help me bring Gabe back to transport.” She muttered. “Mission’s over. You did good. You stopped almost exactly when we asked. A few more runs, and I’m sure we can get you running in perfect shape.”

He…did the mission? He couldn’t recall, the memories flittering about his mind, fraying like a rope that hadn’t been knotted off correctly, no ability for him to hold onto it.

He grabbed Gabriel’s other side, before lifting his weight off of Sombra entirely.

“Man, you’ve certainly put on muscle.” She said appreciatively, taking his other hand and leading him purposefully out of the room, refusing to let him turn around and see, what it was that was behind him.

XXXXX

It was only a few hours after returning to Oasis, jittery, Reyes holding his broken mask like a wound that Moira knocked on his door.

She was already dressed in formal wear, and she gave a tight-lipped smile. “Someone ratted us out to Ogundimu, that you did well on your mission today.” She said, quiet. “And they’ve extended you an invitation. Complete with the required suit.”

“Oh,” He said, awkwardly, as Moira laid out the clothes for him. “I don’t get a choice here?”

“None of us do.” She muttered, shaking her head. “It’s to parade us about to each other. Emphasize the greatness Talon has brought together.”

She descended upon him with comb, gel, and even a bit of makeup, and Siebren really could do nothing to stop her insistence on appearances, and it felt all too much like when he had to put on a pony show for the committee talking about grants when he was much, much younger.

  
  


The transport ride at least, had been uneventful. It was much smaller than what he was used to, more of a private jet. They stepped off it, and Moira sighed as she stared up at a beautiful building, people walking in and out of it with ease.

She took him by the hand, and moved with purpose into it, not stopping until they reached a secluded hallway with a massive door before it.

Moira had fitted him in the suit, and had even forced him into shoes. “Their opinion of you matters greatly. If you don’t know what to say, say nothing at all.” She stressed to him, fixing his tie for him, before fixing her collar on her own dress shirt. “This is a lion’s den, Siebren. Refer to me only as Dr. O’Deorain, and I will call you Dr. De Kuiper.”

She then pushed open the door, and walked in, calm, with a grace he couldn’t cognizantly recall, but knew, bone deep, as familiar as Moira had always been.

This was the woman who he knew when he was with Vialli. When he was fully ~~Sigma~~.

The name sent a shudder down the back of his neck, but he maintained his composure as he followed behind her.

Lacroix was at Ogundimu’s side, a beautiful piece of arm candy, gown elegant as she spoke with him and the omnic Moira had explained to be Maximilien. She didn’t even look out of place there, in spite of how he knew intimately that her form was carved out of marble for violence and death.

Absently, he recognized Vishkar’s logo as he passed, but Moira ignored the man as she walked towards their goal with purpose.

“Ah, Dr. O’Deorain.” The omnic said, taking her hand and kissing it. “You’re looking well. Taking advantage of Oasis’ many benefits?” He asked, and Moira gave a thin-lipped smile.

“Of course, it’s all the fruits of my own ministry’s work.” She said, before moving to the side, holding Siebren by the arm in the same way that Lacroix was next to Ogundimu. “And here, we have our newest member of the innermost circle.” She said, nodding to him.

“A pleasure to finally meet you. My name is Akande Ogundimu, and this is our colleague, Maximilien.”

“Dr. Siebren De Kuiper, astrophysicist.” He introduced, calm, affording a smile as he extended his hand.

“My, Dr. O’Deorain.” Ogundimu said as he shook Siebren’s hand firmly, looking up and down his form with a careful gaze. “Your work continues to impress.”

“Vialli was a fool to try and keep you to himself,” Maximilien said, humming.

“I heard that I have you to thank for dealing with him, sir.” Siebren said as he looked to Ogundimu, repeating what Moira had expressed earlier, and Ogundimu made an appraising hum.

“This one even comes with manners.” Ogundimu said to Moira, and she hummed as she took a cup of wine from a server, swirling it in its glass. Lacroix stared at him intensely from Ogundimu’s side, amber eyes glowing as her satin dress shined in the light from overhead.

“Yes, well, having him banned from Oasis _might_ be counterproductive.” She allowed, as Siebren grabbed a glass himself, the noise of the conversation ringing in his ears as it went above his head. “He was a fool to keep the scientist out of the lab, that’s certain.” She hummed, the sound quieted by her taking a sip.

“Yes, we are certainly enjoying the fruits of his labors.” Maximilien agreed, the omnics voice a smooth timbre, expression the same, only different in that he tilted his head curiously at him. “And yours, as we always do. Tell me, Dr. De Kuiper, are you enjoying your new position in Talon?”

Finally, something he could answer. “Why, yes, I am.” He agreed, avidly. “I’m thrilled to be working with those with a mind for science- our future depends on it.”

Ogundimu nodded, seeming pleased, and Maximilien extended his hand as well, Siebren shaking it gladly. “I know that Dr. O’Deorain has been keeping you busy and well supplied… If you ever want for something…drop a line, will you?” He said, extending Siebren a business card as he withdrew his hand from the handshake.

“I’ll keep you in mind.” He agreed, pocketing the card, before Ogundimu and Moira shared a glance, and they moved on in the party, the man having other things to do while they were there.

Moira eventually found Reyes upstairs away from the main event; the man unmasked for the first time in a light Siebren could see it. His frown was evident, and his face only seemed to be held together by sheer fury, the edges of it indistinct and smoking.

Moira made a soft noise as she saw him, pulling something out of her coat at the same instance he rolled up his sleeve before injecting it into Reyes with a practice that only came from time and intimacy.

“God, I see Korpal goaded you into removing the mask. I'll help you make a new one.” She murmured, as Reyes coughed, looking at her and Siebren and rolling his eyes as he rolled back down his sleeve.

“Sombra mentioned some quip about me not having manners.” He grumbled, and Moira shrugged.

“You don’t.” She reminded dryly, and Reyes shrugged in a lazy gesture that oozed, ‘sue me’. “I thought that the sir was a good touch, made sure that Siebren looked to be harmless enough. To be fair, though, I think he was including Lacroix in that too, but I somehow doubt in my dead heart that he’s all too concerned about his perfect sniper not using the correct fork in her ghost manor filled with spiders.”

Reyes did something unthinkable, completely antithetical to anything he’d ever seen from the man.

He _guffawed_ , and Moira preened under the attention, Reyes seeming to finally come to light at the same time Moira relaxd, and really, truly relaxed. Brownish red eyes looked over Siebren like he was actually seeing him for the first time, some sort of confusion written in the crease of his brow. His face settled down, and he breathed in.

“O’Deorain, report,” He said, finally seeming like the leader the others often deferred to him as.

“Well, Doomfist seems to have been hiring- I’m not all that surprised, given that we cleaned out half of the council when he took power back.” Moira assessed for him easily, holding Siebren by the arm. “There were a few omnic representatives I’ve not seen, but I recognized the symbol as null sector.” She murmured, sipping her wine. “I believe we might be courting someone from Helix as well, given our lack of success so far with Anubis.”

“That’s what Sombra and I have been up to,” He nodded, Moira rubbing her temples and giving him a terse nod. “And that’s what Sigma and I recently did, right?”

Siebren tensed up, hearing the name for the first time and _actually_ hearing it.

“Sigma?” He asked, the name strange and yet familiar in his mouth at the same time, something cold and despicable and wet crawling down his back at the sensation of saying it.

Moira tensed, and so did Reyes, watching him carefully.

“It’s…a codename.” Moira explained, looking to Reyes with something wild in her expression and Reyes matching the alarm with his own strange expression, before putting Moira placed a hand on his shoulder, and slowly started rubbing circles into the muscles. “ _Your_ codename. Exactly the same as when I call Gabriel Reaper, or Lacroix Widowmaker. Your codename is Sigma, Dr. De Kuiper.”

“What’s, what’s your codename, Dr. O’Deorain,” He shuddered, feeling his body ripping apart at the seams, trying to keep focused. Moira hadn’t asked much of him- he had to hold it together.

“Ah, well.” She murmured, trying to remain sympathetic, but obviously well aware of the fact that Siebren wasn’t in a state where he could easily be paraded about for Talon.

“She doesn’t need one.” Reyes said, putting a reassuring hand on his other shoulder. “She’s creepy enough by herself that just her first name alone sends fear into her enemies.”

Moira balked, her gentle circles on his shoulder stopping as she looked at Reyes, enraged at the audacity to say something like that. Siebren broke out of his cold sweat in shock, before he had to chuckle.

“That did seem awfully rude,” He said, voice shaking, but coming back to himself, his feet remaining underneath him, firm, and the ghost of whatever Sigma was, whatever Sigma represented could be gently corralled away underneath Moira’s worry and then her irritation with Reyes calling her creepy, because if _she_ was creepy, what on God’s good earth was _he_?

The rest of the party was quiet and boring, Moira and Gabriel kept to themselves, and occasionally Gabriel would look at him as though something was bothering him, and Moira would look to Gabriel with no small amount of worry in her expression.

At some point, he caught Gabriel finally asking her, in soft words, how much time he’d been away now.

“I don’t think I can answer that easily, Gabriel.” Moira said quiet, her glass of wine long since emptied. “It has been some time since you’ve been _this_ present, I can say that. I’d go so far as to say longer than we’ve had Siebren in general.”

“Any ideas on what triggered it?” Gabriel asked, and Moira waved a hand about, gesturing to the crowd.

“I can’t easily answer that _here_. Perhaps the mission- Sombra mentioned Sigma had hit you hard enough to have broken your mask. Or perhaps something Korpal said to you, while he was taunting you. Maybe both.” She muttered, quiet. “Did he taunt you about Amari and Morrison managing to hoodwink that buffoon, Hakim?”

“Ana’s _alive_?” Gabriel hissed in shock, before his hand touched his head and he hissed again in pain.

Moira watched him in the low glow of the chandelier, before she nodded, quiet.

“So she is.” Moira agreed, “And yet, she is not. You’re losing time again, Reyes. This isn’t good. When you’re finished with your mission in Cairo, I will need some time to study you once more. This doesn’t bode well for your long term stability.”

Siebren licked his lips, and Moira turned to him quietly. “It’s our little secret, though, right, Dr. De Kuiper?” She intoned, and he nodded, understanding that she was asking a favor of him.

“It’s your business, not mine.” He said what they wanted to hear, and Reyes nodded easily.

“Any ideas on who has been doing it?” Gabriel asked, and Moira shook her head, regretful.

“No ideas on specifics. Doomfist taking out Vialli and the Italians all but eliminated them as suspects, but I’ve been surprised before.” Moira assessed, voice darkening. “It’s not good though, that you’re falling back in places like this. It’s dangerous.”

“I think I handled that one pretty well.” Gabriel disagreed, scoffing as he crossed his arms in obvious displeasure.

“What would you have done if you’d been around Korpal or Ogundimu?” She snarked, lightly, and his lips flattened, the two glancing to him for a moment and then on only seeming to talk with gestures and facial quirks, and the night eventually drew to a close, Siebren accidentally falling asleep on the couch he’d settled in while Reyes and Moira talked about things he didn’t quite understand or process.

XXXXX

Not long after the party, he woke up and there was a new vase in the room, and beside it was a tiny flag from the city of Numbani, alongside what appeared to be some sort of very high tech toolset.

Sombra smiled at it, before she looked at him. It was rare, that Sombra’s face greeted him in the morning, before he sat up fully, almost launching himself out of bed. “Easy, big guy.” She chuckled, throwing him a box of sweets. “I just got off mission in Numbani. Saw you’d broken a few tools. Figured you could use something fancy.”

He stared at them curiously, and Sombra grinned, grabbing a sweet from the box as she stretched herself out. “Anyway, apologies for being gone for so long. What can I say? I’m in high demand.”

“And I’m not.” He hummed, and Sombra rolled her eyes.

“No, you’re in incredibly high demand.” She disagreed, a lazy smile across her face. “But, well, your contributions are best capitalized sparingly, or in the lab.” She shrugged. “Moira keeps stressing that the best way to keep you on the straight and narrow is to make sure you get plenty of rest in between missions. Granted, I don’t know how long that will last, but you’ve produced good results so far.”

He stretched, and yawned, and got dressed quickly enough, Sombra averting her eyes as needed, her eyes gleaming with something.

They got to his lab, and a fusion driver of all things sat at his desk. He marveled at it, and Sombra hummed, sitting around it. “Now this, this will be perfect for one of the weapons I’ve been developing! I was considering asking Maximilien for funds, but this will do. Where did you even get it?”

“I was on mission.” She said, shrugging, a lazy smile on her face. “A girl just has to keep up with the latest news in tech, and, well, opportunities, right?” She said, taking out a handful of wriggling little things that he only momentarily glanced at before she pocketed them again. “Plus, the guy got on my nerves. I’ll have to make sure the little lady gets exactly what she’s after, with all these wonderful funds in my pocket.”

“I didn’t understand any of that.” Siebren said, unafraid of telling her his limitations after they’d spent time together like this, especially not when Sombra seemed the most lax about his limits in the first place.

“Let's leave it at, he ripped off a friend, and I repaid the favor in kind.” She sat down on the counter. “And lets perhaps say it was a _little_ wish fulfillment. I deserve it, though. A thousand children like me after the war who never got their what for when adults ripped us off.”

He chuckled, understanding that wherever she got the black market money or the fusion core, whoever she took it from had definitely deserved it.

“Well, do you want to see what I can cook up for you here, is that why you’ve stopped by?” He asked, indulging her, and Sombra laid a hand across her chest, as though swooned by his words.

“My, Dr. De Kuiper.” She mused. “Truly the way to my heart. New tech.”

XXXXX

He was one day jolted out of experiments testing the usage of his barrier by a form scrambling against the door, before it opened, and closed behind her.

“You.” She said, looking to him, irritation hovering just above her skin, the white noise that surrounded her frame like a fly batting away at a window, desperately looking for a way out.

“This is my lab.” He agreed, not understanding her emotions. “What can I do for you, Lacroix?”

“I just…I need a moment away from her.” Widowmaker said, settling into the back of the room. “Do you mind locking the door?”

What a strange concept- the fact he was trusted with a lock. “Of course, Lacroix.” He said politely, floating to the door, managing it with a quiet click from the lock. “Though you were just there, you could have locked it yourself.”

“I’m not allowed to.” She said, looking at her blue hands, amber eyes tense. “I am kept on the shortest of leashes and yet you are allowed to do so much.” Lacroix shook her head, a faint smile on her lips. “But it’s because you can’t even see it, can you? No, you hear the words but you don’t know what they mean.”

He paused, and hummed. “Don’t answer me then. I understand that some things I’m not entitled to know.”

Lacroix laughed, the sound humorless. “Perhaps you don’t even hear them.” She walked through his lab. “Moira mentioned what you saw.” She muttered, leaning against the wall as she looked at him, seeing if, perhaps, that was something he could hear fully.

“What did I see, when I was there with you?” He asked, curious, as Lacroix’s lithe form slid down the wall, a false smile on her face, her eyes hard and teeth sharp.

“A dream, nothing more.” She said, shaking her head. “Of a pathetic girl and a man she failed because of her emotions that left her vulnerable.”

“She was…she _is_ Amélie.” Siebren commented, and Lacroix nodded after a terse moment.

“That is why I want to be away from Moira for this moment.” She muttered. “So that I can sit here with it. With her, and the memory of _him_.” She sneered, but her expression had softened as her shoulders tilted forward, her legs propped up in front of her as if it were some grand defense.

“Moira would understand it.” He defended quietly, and Widowmaker gave him a vicious look.

“I _know_ her pain.” She disagreed, shaking her head. “I bore it and I bear it and I will not take any more of her platitudes. If I am not to feel than I will not feel any more of her problems.” Lacroix spat, shaking her head as she put her face down, her hair spilling over her shoulder at the motion.

Siebren understood that well. Boundaries. Placing a wall between yourself and the world, metal or thousands of miles of untouchable matter in the void of space.

No one could hurt you.

Harold Winston dying in the void of space while Siebren stared at an empty white room and pretended that he was in the stars, so many layers of space and emptiness between them that he couldn’t even say a word to mourn, to apologize. For speaking and not speaking; for what they shared and what they didn’t.

“My apologies, Lacroix.” He said, quiet, backing away. “I am busy at work, and some of these experiments are quite dangerous.” He explained, giving her the reason for locking the door that wasn’t her. “I suppose though, that you are quite capable of determining your own safety.”

Lacroix said nothing, and he watched as she slowly took out a small photograph, and amber eyes glossed over as she touched it tenderly. He didn’t know what to say, what to do, and so he returned to his work, hating the vicious feeling in his chest, of all those nights he spent looking to the stars for answers, hating that aloneness that was never far from him, not after a decade spent confined.

He knew that Widowmaker couldn't see her, but he saw Sombra standing in front of her, the woman invisible, her hands tight little fists as her form shook, uncertain, unknowing of what to do.

No one could love you there, either.

XXXXX

They- he and Moira- spent more time together in the lab than anywhere else, and Moira had invited him in to discuss ideas, or proverbially use him as a launching board for ideas.

“That does seem to be quite the situation. Can’t you sit him down like you do with me, talk him through whatever’s been going on in his mind?” Siebren asked, sitting in Moira’s desk chair.

“Simply put, I’m not that kind of doctor.” Moira dryly said, rubbing her face tiredly as she looked over Gabriel’s genetic structure, her other hand tapping incessantly against the glass table of the lab. “I can’t psychoanalyze Reyes, and even if I did it from the place of arm chair psychologist, it wouldn’t reveal anything I didn’t already know.”

“But he’s stable,” Siebren said, and Moira nodded.

“Nobody’s accused me of that in a long time.” Reyes said; tossing something at him with a hand that was shockingly not dressed in its usual gear. He’d swapped out the gauntlets and coat for a simple hoodie, the fabric dark and worn down from use. “Lock your door, Dr. De Kuiper. Sombra’s decided to pilfer it.”

He rubbed the fabric, quiet, giving Reyes a tentative smile. “Well, I would, but I don’t mind her poking around, she usually leaves the most interesting trinkets about.” He rifled through his pocket, pulling out a little crocheted stuffy in the shape of a little alien. “Thanks for bringing it back, though. I think she believes I don’t know that she does it.” He says, putting it down next to him.

“We’re about to head out on a mission.” He said, disregarding everything. “Moira, you’ve been requested at Monaco for something with Widowmaker.”

“And me?” He asked, curious, realizing it seemed like things were really about to change.

“With mooks.” Reyes assigned, waving a hand. “Ogundimu has some use for you elsewhere, don’t worry.”

He walked to the corner, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. “So what’s the damage, doc?”

“Frankly, I’m not yet sure.” Moira murmured, quiet. “I’ve combed through the data over and over again, and the result is the same, your condition itself is stable. Something else has to be going on.”

“Is that why he’s here?” Reyes asked, gesturing with his chin to Dr. De Kuiper.

He shifted, awkward. “It can be easier to find holes in your work if you explain it to someone else. I believe in coding its referred to the rubber duck test.”

“That does sound like something Sombra does.” Moira agreed, humming. “Siebren, I’ll see you in Rome. Reyes and I have much to discuss, and you should get packing.”

He was amicable, letting Moira and Reyes have the room as he left to go on his own mission, the world turning back to white noise and the melody once more as he donned his helmet and only saw red once more.

XXXXX

He woke up with a jolt when he heard someone rustling around his room. “Who’s there?” He asked, peering out into the dark.

Sombra’s implants glowed in the dark, and she had a hand around one of his shirts. Siebren chuckled at her, rubbing his eyes. “Whatever are you doing here, Sombra? I thought you already had pilfered Gabriel’s room.” He teased, and Sombra stood straight, holding the shirt with a huff.

“Doc caught me wearing it and warned that Gabe was going to be cranky enough tomorrow.” She folded her arms, before she got a mischievous grin in her eyes. “Say, still interested in his condition? He’s still asleep.”

Now that was a concept. 

“Moira does seem rather concerned about it,” He agreed, floating up out of bed, the music a dull hum in the back of his sleepy mind. “It might be worth looking at with fresh eyes, especially while he’s asleep.”

Sombra snorted, walking out of the room, Siebren following her with a yawn, the tips of his toes just barely floating above the floor as he sleepily hovered towards the main living space.

It was impressively different from Oasis. This place had been filled to the brim with dust when they’d first arrived, and Moira had cringed at it as she’d shown him the basic layout of the safe house, griping about how Reyes had to keep better care of his things.

The living space of the place had once obviously been home to a dining table, which was replaced by a rather impressive piece of technical equipment and turned into what seemed to be another lab of Moira’s, and yet, so much pointed that this place belonged just as much to Gabriel.

Unlike Oasis, this one looked older, and yet, more alive.

_"Reyes and I worked here when we were apart of Overwatch." Moira had explained, distractedly._

There weren’t many, but the few photos in the place seemed to be of Reyes and Moira, the two of them far happier than he’d ever seen them. While he’d been cleaning with Moira, he’d even found one of Reyes with two other individuals he didn’t recognize along with Moira, and had placed it neatly in a frame. There were other photos that were still framed, including one of Reyes with two other individuals altogether, the man significantly younger in that shot, and a framed photo that was long since cracked, with one of the men from the shot with Moira, and both the individuals from the trio shot, along with a handful of others.

Sombra opened up the computer, humming. “He was popped in basically the same time we arrived, so he should be thoroughly under.” She said, sitting backwards in Moira’s office chair, and Siebren hummed as he decided to get a closer look at Moira’s files, humming to himself as his fingers brushed over the outside, looking within to see Gabriel’s slumbering face, tense even while resting.

Footsteps came from the outside, and they tensed up, looking toward the previously empty hallway, Moira’s face unreadable but her body as taut as a string about to split. Blue eyes met purple, before he decided to take the downfall, Moira’s gaze steeling up into ice quickly enough.

"Dr. O'Deorain!" Siebren cheerfully broke the silence, trying to act like he hadn't been discretely examining Gabriel, interrupting his treatment. "So sorry to, heh, be in your lab like this! I was woken when Sombra here came rifling around for a shirt, and I realized that now would be a perfect time to investigate some of Reyes' fantastic anomalies."

Sombra snorted, the sound choked off when Moira pinned her with a chilly look as well, expecting an explanation as well, "And you were here because…?"

"Well, I wasn't." She said, rolling her eyes as she translocated in that very next instant, leaving Siebren behind to take the fall, as he’d mentally known he would.

Moira pinched her brow, sighing. "Dr. De Kuiper, while I appreciate your endless interest in my research, interrupting his treatment out of curiosity isn't precisely the way to get Gabriel to display his powers for you."

He gave her a sheepish smile, closing the tube back up before Moira had a chance to. "He isn't exactly keen on talking to me, in spite of my best efforts. I really have no idea how Sombra manages to be so brazen with him."

"That's because he's not keen on talking." Moira explained, shrugging with one shoulder, seeming to look about the room for a second, still inexplicably nervous about something. "Sombra does what she wants, and gets away with it because of her unique skillset."

Siebren straightened, realizing how late it was. "Wait, what on earth are you still doing up! Reyes' treatment clock mentioned he'd been put up hours ago. Dr. O'Deorain, I surely hope you're not overexerting yourself."

Moira looked to him with a worn out look in her face, her brow pinched as she sighed. "Siebren, our condition means we can get away with ignoring certain human formalities. And please, I've told you before, when we're off hours you may call me by my first name." She finally stepped into her lab, Siebren awkwardly floating away, watching her closely as the woman relaxed in her own space. "As it happens, I actually need to finish something else entirely. If you'll excuse me."

"Oh, sorry, Moira. Again, terribly sorry for intruding here," He laughed, awkward, letting her pass, and he moved to go out the other door, before he spotted someone small, new, that he’d yet to see, a blue mask staring up at him within a disguise he’d never encountered before. "Oh, she's new. Doesn't look like one of ours either." Especially since she had blue detailing, instead of red.

"She's- ugh. It's not important." Moira sighed, seeming short with him. "Just don't tell anyone that she's here, alright?"

"That implies to me that she is important." Siebren rationalized, curious. "Especially if you're doing something for her off the books. But, well," He floated over to her, examining the blue mask, trying to place it. The woman was tense, her hand tight on her gun. "I won't mention it."

"You wouldn't know her, Siebren." Moira told him, sitting down at her desk, voice soothing.

"Oh! I just, well. The mask, you know." He gestured to Reaper. "Typically special masks are higher ups." He offered her a hand, and the woman recoiled at first, and he tried to ease her fright with a smile. "Dr. Siebren De Kuiper, astrophysicist. Another friend of Moira's, I presume?"

The woman stared at the hand, and then back up at him, and he just kept smiling, trying to appeal to her. "Ana Amari." She tentatively said, taking the hand and shaking it, the woman very much smaller than either he or Moira.

"That name, it's familiar." Siebren thought on that hard, and Ana tilted her head in confusion. Moira sat at her office chair, scoffing, something that shook him out of his thoughts because of how unlike Moira it was to be short with him.

"Ana- he's had some…memory loss." He frowned at her use of the word to describe it, but didn’t correct her either. "Siebren, she was the former SIC of Overwatch, and a hero of the omnic crisis." Moira distractedly said as she pulled up her work, before Siebren's fingers snapped with the revelation.

"Ah! Right! This is your Schrödinger's cat!" He announced, and Moira inhaled deeply, and Ana removed her mask, the woman’s face showing openly her amusement with the situation here.

"She's mentioned me?" Ana asked, smiling at him as she sat down on a chair by Reyes’ pod. "And as both alive and dead."

"Oh, yes, she talked about you quite at length, really." He chuckled again, settling down. "Someone she cared about so deeply, vanishing entirely. Neither alive nor dead until further proof showed otherwise. She's got this beautiful flower garden in Oasis where she told me she's planted flowers that remind her of," Moira coughed loudly, breaking his thought process again.

"Oh." Siebren realized his faux pas. "Right. The other part of that story." He grew more somber. "But- you were Overwatch, yes? I understand that Reyes here was too, though my memories of that are…scattered, a bit."

Ana inhaled sharply, eyes widening. "I realize where I recognize you from. You're the scientist from the ISS explosion." She murmured, quiet. "I thought you died from injuries sustained, though."

Siebren froze mid air at the mention of his incident, and Moira stood quickly, walking over to him and putting a hand on his shoulder, looking directly at Ana.

“Siebren, it's alright." Moira soothed, rubbing circles into his shoulder, and he breathed out with her motion, trying desperately to hold himself together at the accusation. "He survived, they locked him up in the aftermath because of that they could not control. But we broke him out." She held him down where the man was definitely attempting to float upwards.

Ana's music was so sad, a lonely string instrument more akin to plucking a guitar than Moira's violin or Reyes' viola.

It sang the same as Moira's, the two on a parallel wavelength, two beings who were on the same path and yet were never destined to meet.

"Talon broke him out?" Ana asked, something distrustful in her expression that Siebren didn’t understand. Moira continued to speak on his behalf.

"Yes. Siebren works for us now. At present, he's spending time with me, his colleague." Ana seemed uneasy with the answer, licking her lips as she crossed her arms.

"Ah, yes," Siebren stuttered, trying to regain control of himself quickly, urging the bobbles to stop floating around him, realizing that would make anyone uneasy. "We were in Moira's lab in Oasis a few weeks ago, but she had to travel to Venice, and then we met again here. Lacroix came with her. However, she mentioned that Sombra and Reyes had business elsewhere. They returned today, though, as you can see."

Moira stalked back to her station, ignoring Ana's curious looks at her entirely, and Siebren shifted as he looked between them, picking up that Moira’s shortness wasn’t at him- but at the situation.

"What is Reyes like, Siebren," Ana asked, curious, changing topics entirely.

Siebren chuckled, nervous. "Ah, well. He and I don't have the time to talk to each other often. But as for any impression I have of him? He's quite a hard nut, very growly. He lets Sombra- our youngest by far- get away with calling him nicknames and making fun of him, so I assume he cannot be…hm, what's the word I'm looking for?"

"Unhinged?" Ana offered, dryly, and Siebren shifted mid-air, knowing all too well how often that word had been applied to him, watching Ana realize that perhaps that wasn’t the best thing to say.

"I think I was going for uncaring. Ogundimu and Maximilien don't tolerate nonsense, but Reyes does." Siebren eventually managed, rubbing his fingers together idly.

Ana’s face softened, and he eventually realized what she reminded him of. He floated over to the photographs he’d cleaned up, and handed her the photo of Reyes in the trio. “That’s you, isn’t it? You knew Reyes, didn't you?” Siebren asked, curious, and Ana took the photo from him, seeming surprised to see it.

“Yes, that’s Gabriel, Jack, and myself.” She smiled, apparently just as sad about it as Moira was. “I hadn’t realized he still had this.” She murmured; looking at the photograph as she gently ran a finger over the two men.

“There are a number of photos in here, really.” Siebren said, pulling down a few others. “Most of them were pretty dusty, but Moira and I have been cleaning today.” He grinned, as Ana parceled through them, her face unreadable except for some vague sadness.

“This one I found pretty funny,” He said, trying to stir her from her sadness, finding a photograph of Reyes and Moira together, the man giving her a noogie and a blinding smile, as the woman laughed, holding a copy of a video game just out of reach. “It’s hard to imagine either of them acting like this now.” He said as she looked at the photograph, before she put it down.

“Are Gabriel and Moira friends?” She asked, curious, and he blinked, realizing he actually couldn’t tell-he couldn’t speak for either of them.

“I mean, I’d call them that, but then again, you’d know him better than I would.” He rubbed his forehead, before deciding to ask the woman at question. “Moira,” He said, needing to repeat himself a few more times before she turned around, seeming irritable to be interrupted in her work, face caught in a scowl, back bent over her desk.

"Sorry, I know you're working, but…" He rolled a hand. "Ana was asking if you and Gabriel were friends."

Moira sat up straight at that, angry expression dropping off her face entirely, "Friends?" She echoed, looking to Amari, her lips flattening. "I suppose so. He's busy most of the time, but…" She paused, thinking, biting her bottom lip as her eyebrows worked with her thoughts. "If either of us need something, the other is who we go to."

"I find it hard to imagine Reyes needing much of anything!" Siebren joked. "Or you asking for help."

"Both are rare occurrences," Moira agreed evenly, shrugging. "We don't have to talk to understand the other. Surely you've noticed that, Siebren."

"A fascinating thought." Siebren moved on, going back to examining Gabriel. "Sombra had asked if I could intercept your telepathic communications with him, but I've never gotten anything off you."

Moira inhaled again, and he knew it was some sort of annoyance, and likely at him. "That's because it's not telepathy in the way you're thinking. Our shared genetics- yes, the smoke, Siebren, connect us, and the nanomachines only strengthened it. It's a closed network, and it's more complicated than just thinking to him. Don't mention it to Sombra, we like to watch her squirm."

Siebren chuckled at that, nodding his agreement, before turning back to Ana, watching her stare at Moira, his own amusement faltering as he realized there was more here than he understood, the scratching back once again.

“You don’t have to look at her like that, you know.” He said, trying to ease the tension in the room. “Moira holds herself to her word.”

Ana looked back at him, before she looked to Reyes. “It’s complicated,” She said, shaking her head. “May I call you Siebren?”

“Yes, of course.” He agreed, easily. “As long as I may call you Ana. Miss Amari and Dr. De Kuiper are both a little formal considering I’m in my pajamas,” He said, rubbing his neck.

The woman gave him a smile, seeming like it was against her desire to look serious. “I suppose,” She agreed.

“To be honest,” He said, quiet. “I don’t often understand much of what’s going on.” He admitted, quiet. “Moira has been…grounding, in many ways. But she’s busy with her business with Reyes, and she isn’t my keeper.” He admitted, glancing over at her, before continuing. “I wasn’t being entirely honest. Moira won’t go to Reyes, from what I see, but I know something’s…wrong, with Reyes.” He rubbed the photograph. “I see one person every day, almost all the time. He’s angry and sick and dependent on Moira for solutions. But I saw… _Gabriel_ , I think, the other night, maybe a few weeks ago. The man in this photograph, who smiles and laughs and…in the same way Moira asked I don’t mention this, she’s asked I not mention him.”

Ana’s expression had turned from concerned, to openly worried, finally settling on confused, looking back to Moira. “But she doesn’t really talk to you either, does she, Siebren?”

“She _does_ , more than anyone else, even. I almost am tempted to think she talks to me more than Reyes, even, though she’s not known me half as long. About one thing, or another, my work or hers. It’s just…strained, I think.” He answered honestly. “I think she’s hurting, and I don’t know how to help.”

Eventually, he yawned, and settled down, not wanting to leave Moira here alone, finally touching the ground again.

“You’re kind, Siebren.” Ana said, sitting across from him, her expression enigmatic. “Kinder than I think she deserves.”

“She has done me a favor I doubt I can repay.” Siebren denied, voice soft. “I had not seen the stars for a decade.” He looked at his hands, closing his eyes. “She has helped in ways I can’t even yet comprehend. Something’s- wrong with me. One second I’m here and the next I am gone, floating in nothingness. Moira was the first to reach out, and show everyone that I am not dead.”

Ana said nothing, just watched him with some unreadable, unknowable sadness in her expression. His mind was scratching, telling him something as, was wrong, off. It was like he couldn't understand what she was saying, couldn't understand anything at all, a revelation tickling at him, just outside his reach, just outside of his capacity to understand.

At some point, Siebren fell asleep on the floor next to Moira, and Ana went quiet, unable to keep speaking to a man who couldn't hear her at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading! I hope yall like this chapter and where I'm taking things. feed me with nice things, i really do appreciate it and it really keeps me going. yall can also shout at me on @harmicist on twitter if you'd like


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> waves hand around like i know what im doing
> 
> ehhhh hopefully yall are enjoying siebrens wild ride

Life moved on around them, the 5 of them seemingly only a drop in the river, an uncaring river that never seemed to want to stop, or perhaps they were on a stone, trapped together, forced to rely on each other. Ana was gone that next morning, and Moira didn’t ever mention her again. Reyes was fixed, for the time being, and they left Rome, and went back to Oasis to reconvene.

Lacroix and Moira sat together at a table in the courtyard, the early morning beautiful and soft, Lacroix’s face crushed under something heavy in her thoughts, her eyes not glowing, simply brown and weak and quiet. “I cannot help if you do not talk with me.” Moira murmured, quiet, a hand on hers, that Lacroix allowed to be there.

“It is Sombra.” She said, her voice strained.

“You… _think_ about Sombra often.” Moira carefully stated, choosing her words wisely, turning a pill bottle over in her hands, the pills shaking inside as she considered it. “I understand- you know I do.”

Widowmaker scoffed, her expression drawn tight, her hands gripped tightly around the glass mug of tea in her hands. "I cannot speak of it, not to you, not like this."

“You don’t want me to fix it. I see.” She understood, humming as she sat back, drinking her tea, taking a pill with it. “I won’t force you. The option stands open for you to take, if you’d like, Lacroix. Don’t let it get in the way of work. Reyes has already noticed, as have I. But we are close to the issue at hand."

“Moira?” He interrupted their conversation, their faces turning to him quickly. “What are you taking?”

She smiled, the expression false, not even reaching the rest of her face, her gaze far away, centered on nothing. “Self-diagnosed. It grounds me.” She sipped at her tea again. “We have quite the schedule to keep up with, don’t we? Take care, Lacroix.”

Lacroix said nothing, but she removed herself from the table abruptly, her tea left sitting out while she walked away, slowly growing cold, and Moira watched her go.

“It’s alright, Siebren.” She soothed, putting away the pill bottle. “You don’t have to keep me company.”

“I want to keep you company.” He disagreed, taking out his work to sit next to her. “You’ve been busy, lately, and I can tell you need someone to talk to, and if not to talk to, than to commiserate.” Siebren teased, lightly, but Moira remained quiet, her face down in her files, eyes laser focused.

“So, Sombra and Lacroix, hm?” He said, after a long moment of silence, and Moira scoffed, taking out her own work.

“I believe so.” She agreed, quiet, letting Siebren ask. “Sombra does seem to enjoy her company, and Lacroix certainly doesn’t seek me out like she seeks out Sombra. Not anymore, that’s certain.” She hummed, touching the interface carefully, putting away her tablet as she closed a file that had Lacroix's face in it.

“ _You_ and Lacroix?” He asked, curious, and Moira shrugged.

“I’ve had a handful of lovers over the years.” She gave a mild non-answer, her expression schooled carefully. "She reminded me of...certain things. We've not been together in quite some time."

“Well, I only really had the one, but we maintained it for a considerable amount of time.”

“Harold Winston, right?” Moira confirmed, curious, and he nodded, unable to recall telling her that, but there were many things he couldn’t consciously recall, and many that were far less innocuous than such a thing as the name of a former lover.

“Yes, Dr. Winston.” He smiled, sadly. “It feels like a lifetime ago now, that we were both young researchers talking about space. He actually went into your field, not mine!” He laughed, then, shaking his head. “I wonder if that’s why it’s so easy to talk to you.”

Moira hummed, thoughtful, sitting on that knowledge like there were other things she wanted to say to him, finishing her tea with a quick gulp, and then doing the same with Lacroix's glass. Instead of revealing anything, she said, “I’ll be out of town for a while, Siebren. Plans are finally in motion, and none of us can halt them, even if we tried.”

XXXXX

Moira hadn’t been joking about the tight schedule. Siebren could hardly keep up, what with all his work ~~and his missions~~. He was tired, he was sore. Something was itching in the back of his mind, growing stronger each day. ~~Each mission.~~ He knew that his time was going somewhere, but he was so used to it going places that he'd wake up and, and it'd suddenly be sunset, and he would go outside and watch the stars even as his legs trembled from something and occasionally he'd be bandaged carefully.

“You’ve not eaten in 24 hours, Dr. De Kuiper.” Sombra said as she pushed the door in, dropping a box of takeout food. “I’m going to be gone again, Moira said hi, sorry for not being around for the past week. We’ve been busy.”

“We've all been busy!” He agreed, giving a self-deprecating smile. “I was wondering why I was getting irritable. A lack of food definitely could be the culprit.”

"Definitely is, you mean," She paused, and Siebren did as well both of them hearing a vibrating noise coming from her pocket. “I have to take this.” She said, taking it out and raising up both of her carefully manicured eyebrows, answering the phone call with an easy going smile.

“Olivia Colomar here, how can I help you, Miss Odalede?”

She walked to the side, listening to her carefully, letting the girl speak, Siebren eating his takeout food while trying to eavesdrop, and failing terribly. He really was a terrible spy, he thought absently, though the itch was back again at that, seeming to want him to pick up on something she was saying. ~~Paris. Null Sector.~~ Overwatch. Interesting, and yet out of context. The words eluded him, and he was left trying to eavesdrop on a conversation he couldn’t understand half the words of.

“Ah, well…I’ll certainly talk to Dr. De Kuiper about your offer. It does seem interesting. You were a fan of those Overwatch cartoons weren’t you? Don’t lie, I can see all over your phone that you were a huge fan girl of Sojourn.”

A pause, and then a laugh, Sombra sitting on Siebren’s countertop, looking over various files, “Oh, I was always more of a Gabriel Reyes fan, to be honest.” She hummed, looking at Siebren like there was something he was missing, that she knew he didn’t know. Couldn’t know. “I can’t help but feel like his character development got stifled by something and there’s more to his character than meets the eye.”

She laughed, then, a real laugh. “I forget, you would have been 3 or so when they cut his character out of the show entirely. The point still stands. I’ll let him know you called. Have a safe flight.”

Sombra rifled through his things that sat out on his table, and she grinned as she took a shirt off the pile, rubbing her fingers against the fabric. It had been something from Moira, a sleep shirt that said, “I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation,” and Sombra stuffed it into her bag.

“You know, Sombra.” He said, bemused by her actions. “If you like them so much, you could just keep some. I don’t mind sharing.”

Sombra’s purple implants glowed bright as she slowed down. “I didn’t realize you noticed.” She said, folding her arms. “I have a hard time telling how much you really can pick up on.”

He sat there, confused for a long moment, before she left the room, taking her takeout and her prize with her.

The itching was only getting stronger, as he thought hard on the words, putting them together over and over again in his mind. How much he could pick up on? He was a scientist, he was meant to observe, to hypothesize, to understand.

He reached out, and he scratched _back_ , and for the first time in his life, he felt the metal there, on the sides of his temples, and he felt something sick growing in the pit of his stomach.

The only hypothesis in his mind was fuzz and blurred white noise that almost buried the music that was never far away from him, so familiar that it almost, almost reminded him of Lacroix....

Then the world went numb again, and he was back in an empty world of stars, free but alone and kept adrift as he was taken away from his work, there being too much to do even now.

XXXXX

“ _Siebren,”_ Moira shouted at the top of her lungs while he was recovering from a mission, staring at his hands like they held an answer that he couldn’t grasp. He supposed they did, holding the answers to the universe in them, the explosive results of his failed experiment. But this was different, this was the itch he was questioning, the wrongness in his world he was starting to perceive.

He was up and moving before he knew quite what he was doing, but Moira never had shouted at him like that before- had never shouted period, let alone in such primal fear.

He got to her lab, and slammed the door open, holding her arm like a primal death grip, Reyes lifeless on the floor, his hands opening and closing in tandem with Moira’s own movements, the man digging his talons into her leg, the mans mouth open in a snarl, eldritch and unknowable.

“I need you to give him that shot,” Moira said, gripping her arm tighter, cold sweat dripping across her forehead, her dual eyes staring at him intensely, hissing at Reyes to stop, stop.

Reyes did not stop, but he did not move, trapped by something unseen, unknowable.

By Moira, he knew in his gut.

He picked up the needle, his hands shaking.

“It’s alright, Siebren.” Moira soothed, voice shaking in spite of herself. “Reyes just…he needs his treatment. Badly. It’s been too long.”

“I’ve never had to give anyone a shot before.”

“You can’t hurt him.” Moira breathed, as though the words were hard for her, her eyes shutting closed before they opened, angry and red, hissing venom as the arm-her arm- dug its nails into her thigh, making her gasp in pain, and regain herself.

He took the needle, and he hesitated, Reyes’ form going fully still as Moira stood up, forcing her arm in on itself.

“Do it, Siebren. In the arm, please. It’s okay. I’ve got him.” She walked him through it, her expression wild, her own form melting at the edges as she let out a pained cry, falling back to her knees, and, and…

The needle was in Reyes arm, and the violence ceased. The room calmed almost instantly, and Reyes was still. Moira gasped in pain as she released her own arm and it dropped, shaking, while she checked on Reyes.

“Are you in there, Gabriel?” She asked.

The emptied shell groaned for a second, before Reyes sat up, shuddering as he did. “Moira? What the fuck?”

“You lost control.” She murmured, pacing, holding her hand to her wounds, slowly healing herself up. “And attacked me.”

“What- I,” Reyes looked in shock to her wounds. “No, I…I couldn’t have. I wouldn't have.”

“I don’t know what, or _who_ exactly has gotten into your head, but this is very, very bad.” Moira hissed, shaking her head. “Alternatively, no one’s there, and you just…”

“Just got hungry and decided you were on the menu.” He agreed, quiet, his tone serious, his form shaken, removing his mask to reveal a pallid face, all 20 of his eyes searching for answers, starting to pace himself.

“This is _bad_ , Reyes,” Moira said as she sat on her counter, tall enough that it was more a casual lean as she finished patching up her thigh, turning her attention to her other injuries, grabbing bandages and starting on her arm. “I have _never_ had to subdue you before.”

“I know.” He rasps, weak. “I know it’s bad, Moira. Fuck.”

“Your condition of your body is stable- and don’t back talk me here, you aren’t just needlessly wasting away anymore or randomly waking up with three eyes or missing an arm. You’re alive. But your _mind_ seems to be walking away from you too often, and I am many things but I am no medical doctor.” She bit her lip. “And that’s assuming that there’s a medical reason for it and it’s not the work of someone eager to get rid of me and have you to themselves, like we already were wondering about.”

“I can’t tell you either, Moira,” He muttered, staring at his bloody hands, while Moira finished bandaging her own arm. “There are too many missing pieces, and too many things are already in motion for me to just…stop.” He murmured, and Moira gave him a distressed look.

“I know. I know. We have to leave in a few hours.” She murmured, rubbing the crook of her arm, and Siebren watched her pace again, back and forth as she and Reyes both worried about something he didn't quite understand, but knew was bad, worrying in a way that was understandable just by watching the situation before him unfold.

She finally seemed to realize he was there, and she paused, looking up at him quietly.

“You can go, Siebren. Thank you, for coming.” She said, biting her lip as she paced in her lab, Reyes leaning forward with black smoke surrounding him more and more.

Siebren moved to stop being a voyeur, but worry made him look back at them.

Moira had taken Gabriel’s hand in her own, and squeezed it tight. “All our choices have had a cost, Gabriel. Perhaps it is time to discuss what more we are willing to sacrifice. And what we are not.” She whispered, quiet, and he let the door closed, going to get ready for the mission.

XXXXX

It was on one of Talon’s many missions against ~~Overwatch~~ where Siebren wakes up, accidentally, during the mission itself.

Waking up is the only way to describe it. One second, he is floating in nothingness, in a world of stars, in an endless sleep, so far away in his mind there is no concept of time or trouble, and the next…

He was staring through red at a young girl, and both froze as the universe bent around them, he’d absorbed something she’d thrown at him, and they both understood each other perfectly in that instance. The universe’s touch was all over her, blue and bright, and he watched with interest her growing horror as she flickered in and out of existence suddenly as the universe pulled her close to his black hole.

And then he was hit on the side of the head with a flail of all things, and he turned to see a…

Another child? What was going on here? These were people in their early 20’s, maybe a little bit older. He was so shocked that he couldn’t even really move at first. “What?” He said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Why am I…fighting you? Why are you fighting me?”

“You’re Talon!” She said, firmly, the words ringing in his ears, the helmet cracked slightly. “And Talon must be stopped. I won’t let you destroy everything my father and godfather built!”

“Talon is- is just advancing science.” He disagreed, feeling off-kilter, stumbling mid-air. “Why am I here, I don’t understand…”

“Sigma!” O’Deorain shouted at him over the comms, shocking him out of his disbelief at the facts being put before him here, on this battlefield. “Get over here!”

Siebren mindlessly obeyed- one half of him still on course- and flung two hyperspheres at the girl, who blocked the blast with a small hard light shield, before he tossed a rock at her to get space between them to find Moira.

He found Moira in a small alcove, the two suddenly alone as Siebren ducked in to talk with her. Moira breathed around the pain in her gut, obviously having been shot by something.

Reyes was away, the battlefield focused around him. “Dr. O’Deorain,” He greeted, quietly.

“We need to get out of here.” Moira said, after giving him a worried double take, as someone flew overhead, and Moira’s lips flattened out. “There’s too many of them, even for us.”

“Oh, you think?” Sombra said over the comms. “Transport’s nearby. I have Gabe, you two get back to the ship.”

Moira nodded at him, standing up with a grunt. “Fuck.” She said, holding her middle.

“I’ve got you, Dr. O’Deorain,” he said, meekly, and Moira looked at him strangely.

“Sigma?” She asked, and he shifted, awkward, the words not right in his mouth.

“Moira! I know it’s you, you’re surrounded.” An unfamiliar voice rang out, and Moira breathed, groaning.

“Of course Angela’s here.” She grunted, looking to Siebren.

“Who’s Angela?” He asked, and Moira huffed, shaking her head.

“The shortest explanation of our complicated history is that she is my ex colleague, and former lover.” She said, carefully. “She’s the one who’s leading this mission. I need you to get us out of here, Sigma.”

Wordlessly, he picked her up, and Moira groaned lowly as he moved her from her vulnerable position. He started floating, leaving the alcove behind, and he tapped into the chaos around him, the music growing louder and louder as he responded to the scratching and insistence in the back of his mind that something, something was wrong.

He lifted up the battlefield around him, catching everyone in the gravity field, and he held them there, keeping them aloft as he escaped with Moira, Sombra grabbing Reyes’ body from the wreckage and running the opposite way.

“They’ll meet us back at base. Best to take two separate routes there.” Moira explained, her voice weak. “We’re almost to transport Siebren.”

He dropped the field, and there were shrieks of panic behind him that sent a newfound terror into his stomach, envisioning that youthful girl in his mind again, attacking her as he just had.

_Am I dangerous?_

_Dual eyes that held secrets, that held truth and lies and good and bad._

_Are you?_

Yes. Yes he was. He thought, sick to his stomach as he carried Moira through the tree line, vanishing to transport, the woman giving the order to leave, now.

He stared at his hands, and drifted far, far away as transport took off, leaving Sombra and Reyes behind to find their own way back, and he wondered what on earth had been going on all this time. What had he been doing?

What had they all been doing?

The itching stopped, and Siebren removed his helmet, left to contemplate it while Moira set herself up for the long ride back to base.

He lifted a finger to his temple, and felt that on the side of his head, where that one girl had been hitting him, the implant felt wrong, no longer smooth against his skin.

XXXXX

Hours passed, and transport was still moving. He had no idea where they were, no idea where they _had been_.

“Moira,” Siebren found himself finally asking the thing that had been there, at the back of his mind, for a long time, itching and scratching and telling him that something was wrong, terribly wrong. But he was still nervous to ask it, still worried to speak the phrase into existence.

Moira seemed tired, worn thin from the battle, IV dripping slowly into her system to recover fluids, her eyes distant. “Siebren,” She uttered his name flatly, looking to her damaged hand, a fault of her own creation, as so many of her problems were.

“Talon’s…” He struggled, the words hard in his mouth, like chewing rocks, swallowing gravel. “It’s not…good, is it? Those children that we were fighting… they’re not bad, or wrong, for fighting us…are they?”

Moira closed her eyes, leaning back against the wall of transport, taking a long, shuddering sigh as she pulled her arms in, crossing them.

“I wondered when you’d progress to this point.” She said, instead of giving him a simple denial, like he’d desperately wanted. “I knew, from the second that you spoke to me instead of blindly lashing out, that one day, you’d recover to a point where I’d have to answer you directly, and I’d have no illusion to hide behind.”

“Moira, I’m afraid I don’t understand.” He murmured, the woman opening her eyes and looking at him directly, truly seeing him in a way that only she ever seemed to do, always having known that there was someone beneath what had happened to him.

“But, you do.” Moira said back, sitting up in the way that became her form and figure, contemplating him. “Siebren, you _do_ understand. Talon’s goals, while they allowed me to put time and energy into helping you, aren’t charitable, nor kind. I’d go so far as to say that they are the direct opposite of those ideals.”

He was quiet, letting the woman sit with her thoughts, and her regrets. “Reyes and myself are not good people by anyone’s metric. Neither is Sombra, nor Lacroix, nor Ogundimu or Maximilian or Korpal. Talon, particularly under Ogundimu’s rule, is a warmongering terrorist group, and you’ve likely known this for a long time, on some level. But you’ve haven’t had what good people look like- your old coworkers left you to rot or died themselves, and the agencies meant to help you failed you the same way it failed Reyes and myself so spectacularly. So the villains here lent you a hand, and you got to see that good and evil are labels that don't fit. But you- you’re a good person, and you’re not meant for this kind of role.”

She gave a sardonic smile. “So I knew, eventually, you’d recover enough of your mental faculties that either someone- specifically Vialli, prior to his demise- would get _twitchy_ with the idea of your power turned against us, or you, yourself would realize the gravitas of the situation around you.”

“Dr. O’Deorain, what you’re saying is…” He fumbled for words, and Moira nodded, quiet. “It’s mad.”

“I’m quite aware. So, yes, those kids we fought, they’re not wrong for fighting us.” She closed her eyes again, holding her wound. “Don’t let Reyes hear these kinds of thoughts. Or Lacroix. Definitely not any of the other higher ups.”

It was a brave assumption that he’d keep working for them, but with a cold shudder that gave him goose bumps, he realized he didn’t have a choice. He could fight his way out, and he’d have to hurt the very same people that helped him. Moira even, who had told him the truth, wouldn’t stand by and let him injure or kill Gabriel or Lacroix. Nor could she let Gabriel or Lacroix hurt him. So she was damned either way, stuck in the same situation he was.

Something kicked in the back of his head, that of all the people around him, Moira was the most dangerous, the one who’d get the order to undo all the progress he’d made.

And yet, Moira made no move to do so, she simply held her battered stomach, and shuddered forward, her body aching from the fight.

He remembered now, what had spurred it. Moira had screamed as the young one who had time bend around her like she was apart of it herself unloaded a clip into her stomach, and had vanished from the world like a ghost, and Sigma had acted to protect his ally, giving the girl he’d been fighting a chance to hit him again with the flail, slowly breaking his helmet, a thousand blows dislodging the implant bit by bit.

He finally sat beside her, and the woman gave into weakness, leaning into his space.

“What can we do?” He asked, quiet, and Moira breathed out what almost sounded like a laugh.

“You can do nothing, really, Siebren. That’s the rub with the position you’re in. Talon relied on the idea that you’d never come back mentally enough to realize you were being used, and on those implants to filter out things you weren’t meant to know. But I knew you’d recover to that point someday. So, I put it into motion a long time ago.” Moira murmured. “I have to message my contact, and then…well, it will be safest to have it happen on the battlefield. Less of a chance of someone noticing in the crossfire; less chance of…dangerous implications for the ones who helped you.”

“Moira?” Siebren asked, confused. “I’m afraid I’m not following.”

“When I realized that this day would come, Siebren.” Moira murmured, quiet. “I reached out to someone who knew you, before. Someone who you could run to, instead of just running away. Running from Talon is a fool’s errand without either extensive experience with guerilla tactics or someone protecting you that is capable of protecting themselves.”

Someone who knew him? “Moira,” Siebren paused, pregnant with thought, unable to think of what else to say.

She removed herself from his space, and delicately removed the IV from her arm while she stood up. “It won’t be long now, Siebren. In fact, it’s best if we not talk between now and the next battle, to further remove suspicion.” She lowered her chin, looked down at the floor as she took a single step forward. “Just…don’t think of any of those close to me too badly, once you hear the story from the others. I don't care what you think of me, if you wind up despising me for what I’ve done… well, you won’t be alone. If you never see me again… Assume the worst.”

Moira walked away, holding her injuries, leaving him with the dark reality that his recovery, and her involvement in it was going to lead to a dark fate for herself or him, if she didn’t succeed.

He didn’t know which one he wanted, given that in the end, one of them was likely to die even if things went as expected.

And both of them surely would if they failed.

XXXXX

His lab felt foreign afterwards. Full of a life based on a lie; on a life he’d never wanted to lead.

And yet, it was full of wistful spirits, of Moira sitting patiently beside him and guiding him through the worst of the panic or avidly listening to him describe his research, despite not having any relation to her field. Or where he’d listen to her ramble about her difficulties with Reyes condition, the man himself occasionally there and rarer still deigning to say something snarky back to her about it. Sombra and her pastries and habit of stealing his shirts even though she thought he wouldn’t notice, or even quiet Lacroix sitting in the back of his lab, an awkward alliance between two people who…he realized now, hadn’t asked for this.

It hit him, fully, and it made him want to vomit, his feet finally touching the ground as he came back to himself.

Siebren- no, _Sigma_ was a weapon. Lacroix, Reyes, they were both weapons too. That was what Moira was alluding to. Each had their names, their horrific symbols, _Widowmaker_ , _Reaper_ , _Sigma._

All this research they were doing here, it was not for the sake of science alone, it was for Talon.

The thought made rage bubble up inside of him, directed entirely at Moira, but it cooled quickly enough. She was getting him out, at risk of her own death. She’d sheltered him from the higher ups, had taken him on personally, and had kept it secret how much he’d recovered.

Why hadn’t she tried to get him out before, was another question easily snuffed out- he’d been _dangerous_ before. Moira truly was a unique individual in her ability to cease to exist and escape his gravitational hold. Before, he wasn’t even aware enough to understand he had these powers and even when he’d come back to himself, he had already killed many people with them. And his recovery hadn’t been entirely linear, he recalled days where Moira came into his room, and acted like nothing was wrong, but eventually would cave once Siebren asked, and tell him how long it’d been since they’d talked like this.

She had to watch, always believing that one day he’d get to a point where he’d understand what his surroundings were again. No one else had ever thought he’d get to a point where he’d be talking sane again.

That was why he’d been locked up in the first place. Too dangerous to be allowed to run free, too likely to harm anyone who got close.

Good people had failed him, bad people had wanted him, but the grey people who lived here with him had shown him the stars again even as they had no idea if he’d ever recover to a point he’d be capable of living on his own.

God, Siebren wasn’t even sure if he was qualified to live on his own. The anxiety ate at him, recalling how often Sombra came in with food, reminding him to eat, or how even the slightest shift in his sleep schedule left him moody and lashing out. Moira could deftly avoid the gravitic charges of his hyperspheres, and as she was always the first to see him, could alert others to his state.

The thought chilled him, that all her research was also Talon’s. Yes, she was cunning, and calculating, but in hindsight she always seemed so stressed over Gabriel’s condition, and it made him wonder how much power she truly had here.

There was her Schrödinger’s cat, the one he’d observed as alive. Ana Amari. The woman she said she’d loved. That woman…was on the other side of the war, he realized, quickly. Moira’s sadness came partially from that. Reyes used to be friends with her, he remembered, but whatever Reyes was now was a far cry from the man he’d used to be, if Ana’s words were to be trusted.

In Reyes, he saw himself, reversed.

He remembered then, that Gabriel had brief moments of clarity, coming back to himself, only able to understand that something was wrong, not knowing how or why he got there, only that he was there now.

No wonder why the man could hardly stand to be around him. Siebren was only improving. Reyes was deteriorating, and apparently at a horrific rate.

He pitied Gabriel, in that moment, realizing how lucky he’d gotten off being able to look inward and see what had happened, to still be able to question and find your footing in your own mind. But he didn’t know how to help, if he _could_ help.

Siebren’s hands shook, but he knew, if Moira was to live past his escape, he had to act his ‘normal,’ meaning he’d have to do some work in here, even if the idea of helping the people behind all this disgusted him to his core.

He wondered how Moira did it, before he remembered asking her one day about her medication.

_“Self-diagnosed,” She had said, eyes distant. “It grounds me.”_

Moira had simultaneously encouraged him to fly, as contrived as that thought was.

Siebren couldn't leave her. He didn’t want to. Hell, if he had his way, he’d get his entire strike team out with him. Lacroix, Reyes, Moira, and Sombra. Well, if Sombra needed help, he wasn’t certain. The woman always seemed to be doing something, but she was honest about her ulterior motives. If Reyes or Lacroix needed his help was debatable, but he knew now that…they were in the same position as he was, but they’d gotten there differently. Leaving them would be tantamount to agreeing to fight the next time they met.

Good people had failed them all. That was why they were all here, living in shades of grey.

Siebren balled his hands into tight fists, his lab shaking with the intensity of his emotion.

He wouldn’t fail them too.

XXXXX

The mission was simple enough when Reyes laid out the plan. It was a mission like any other he’d been on, before he’d understood. This one was a direct attack on Watchpoint: Gibraltar. The headquarters of their supposed enemy, Overwatch.

(Their central goal was to destroy the Watchpoint, so that Overwatch would have a harder time finding somewhere to reconvene. Without it’s headquarters, without its symbol, they’d scatter again, unable to find a home.

They’d head into an uninhabited part of the base, and get to the computer systems, where Sombra would destroy the backups while Reaper set the bomb in the heart of the old base.

Moira had found him later, and whispered what he had presupposed. “No better time for the mission to go wrong than here, Siebren.” She squeezed his shoulder, a gesture done a thousand times, pure muscle memory by this point. “You’ll know when it’s time. Try not to…hurt anyone.”)

It was different, than before. Before, he was at peace with knowing he was doing things to help out the people who helped him, and protected them from people who sought to hurt them.

These missions were using him to hurt people, making Moira’s words all the more insidious in their double meaning.

Now, as he disembarked from the transport ship, and looked up at a symbol of peace on the rock of Gibraltar, it clashed with everything inside him. Lacroix took her position, and Moira hung back, watching as Reyes and Sombra moved forward together, Sombra working to break into the recently reestablished settings.

“They seemed to have expected us.” Moira noted, looking around the place for cameras. “Their defenses seem improved from your last venture here.”

“Stupid monkey,” He rasped, as Sombra made an affirmative noise, running into difficulties hacking it.

“They got someone who’s better at security, that’s for sure. I need time to open this up.” She seemed almost bored, and Siebren found himself swallowing at her tone, and the way she looked back at him.

“Time estimate?” Lacroix asked over comms, and Sombra waved her hand.

“Maybe 5, 10 minutes?”

“That’s not good enough.” Reaper hissed at her, looking up and down the door.

“I don’t have any of the bypass codes.” Sombra said, tone a bit too cavalier if they went off Reaper’s responding growl, and Reaper pushed her aside, harshly tapping in a set of numbers.

“Commander Reyes, welcome back.” Athena said smoothly, voice artificially calm. “Unfortunately, your access has been removed.”

Reaper snarled at the AI, and Moira had to pull him back, while Sombra defended the console. “Easy, Reyes. We knew that this might happen.” Moira reassured.

“ _How_ could they have known, Moira?” He questioned her, and Moira raised a single eyebrow, the one not covered by her metal plate.

“If the fact that Jack Morrison was still up and kicking around hadn’t perhaps led them to wonder if the _other_ super soldier might have survived, the fact you still fight exactly the same as you did, oh, perhaps six, ten or twenty years ago might have clued them in.” She reasoned with him, folding her arms. “Alternatively, they didn’t know, and under the assumption that you were _dead,_ they revoked the access codes so that no one else who _had_ _them_ ,” She gestured to herself as the obvious example, “Could get in. And now you’ve gone and confirmed that you are not dead, regardless.”

Siebren’s musical alarms went off, slow piano notes marked by striking rhythmic woodwinds in rising intensity came from behind, and he turned with growing alarm as he spotted a small, lithe metallic figure.

Omnic, alarm bells went off immediately in his mind, and a very humanoid one at that. Green lit up the form, and he lifted his shield in preparation to protect his teammates as Moira, Reyes, and Sombra all bickered by the access code area.

“Incoming,” Lacroix said across comms, obviously having noticed the same thing as Siebren.

“Buy me some time!” Sombra pushed Gabriel away, the man raising his guns as he took up his position in front of Moira and Sombra.

The two women looked at each other for a brief moment, before Moira vanished, reappearing right in front of the approaching form, tripping him instantly.

“Moira!” The omnic- no, _man_ , interesting- shouted accusatorily at her. Moira lifted her hands up, nodding at him silently.

“Hello, Genji.” She said, voice even. “A touching reunion. Pity the cowboy isn’t here to see this. Reyes.” She called to him, and Reaper was in motion, all black smoke elegantly teleporting himself across the battlefield, the two of them two dark sides of a coin, spinning perfectly, creating a rotating image, a story that moved too fast to be understood.

Siebren felt himself stricken with indecision, watching from behind himself as Moira threw herself into the fight with the omnic with grace, her only weapons in her hands, having to fend off her attacker as Reyes sought to get in a better angle.

His shield was up, but should he really be defending them? Should he help them?

It was quickly apparent that it wasn’t just the omnic. The young woman who had stopped and stared at him with the horrifying revelation that he was her dark reflection had appeared in the battlefield, helping the man that Moira knew as ‘Genji,’ though she flickered a concerned look to him across the battlefield.

“It might be time to lose the helmet.” Sombra said, bored, still focused on the console. “I figured that Moira’s attitude earlier meant you’d made your choice.”

She wasn’t wrong.

He gently put his hands up to the helmet, and lifted it off his head, his world becoming clear for the first time in a decade.

Moira and Reyes were good at their jobs, but the addition of the omnic they’d fought before- the one that could learn- was bad news. Lacroix was obviously shooting at someone, but it wasn’t clear who she was engaged with upstairs.

“I’ll be seeing you, big guy.” Sombra gently put a hand on his shoulder, and gave him a halfhearted squeeze, before returning to her work.

“Dr. De Kuiper,” A voice that was unfamiliar and yet instantly placed spoke from the corner, where a door had opened out of sight from the fight.

A gorilla stared at him, and Siebren gave pause, the memories placing themselves awkwardly in his mind.

“You…” He swallowed, thickly, running a hand through thinning hair. “You’re Harold’s project, aren’t you? You were so much smaller back then…goodness, it’s been a long time.”

The gorilla broke out in a smile, and he found himself encased in a sudden hug, the motion shocking to him.

“It’s nice to see a familiar face.” The gorilla said. “Get inside, we’ll fight them off.”

Something tightened inside him, because he was leaving his team behind. Lacroix had watched over him, Sombra had stood beside him, Reyes had stood before him, and Moira had stood behind. He was leaving them defenseless, his shield all that remained, floating without him in their midst.

A breakable illusion that- once gone- would be gone with him.

Moira turned, and caught him, her dual eyes wide as she struggled to fight, obviously seeing the gorilla about to join the fight.

“Hey, you heard him.” Sombra broke him out of his haze, and the gorilla stared at her owlishly. “Get inside, big guy. They’re big kids, they can handle themselves.”

“I’m going to ask you to stop once, and then I’ll make you stop.” The gorilla threatened her, voice low, and Sombra chuckled, giving him a fierce grin.

“Oh? Gonna send me packing?” She lifted her hands up in false surrender; too confident to think he’d act on it. “Right in front of the big guy? At least make it look convincing.”

It clicked in the gorilla’s head, then, that she was asking for an excuse.

He turned on his gun, and turned his head away as Sombra yelped, being electrocuted, the woman vanishing back to her translocator at the pain.

Moira whipped her head around again, but this time, _Reaper_ did as well.

Red eyes stared wide at him, as vicious understanding dawned on him.

Siebren had been right there, and had done nothing to help.

Reaper turned to smoke, and cut a vicious path out of the fight, Moira unable to do anything as she was surrounded but follow, vanishing into thin air to give chase, the heroes that had been fighting them giving chase as well.

Reyes went through his shield, and Siebren felt helpless in that moment.

“Traitor.” Reyes hissed at him, raising his gun, the word a stain, because it was true. And suddenly, Reyes fell to the floor, lifeless, Moira gripping her purpling arm tight, the veins straining as smoke left them behind the heroes. 

“Go.” She ordered, “I’ve got him.”

She wouldn’t for long, if the bullet aimed for her head had anything to say about it.

Siebren grasped it out of the air, staring at Lacroix with horror, and the shortest one’s face darkened, vanishing in blips of blue light that sounded like the gentlest notes from the high end of a piano.

Moira gasped in pain, falling to her knees as she held her arm at the crook of her elbow.

“No, Reyes, I won’t let go.” She said to herself, quiet, only loud enough that he could hear her due to his control on sound, due to his familiarity with her.

They were quickly being surrounded, Reyes sprawled on the ground, held only by Moira’s tight grip on his mind, and Moira unable to move, focused wholly on restraining Reaper.

“Don’t…don’t hurt them.” Siebren urged, taking a step forward as if to act, to do something to help them, and he was suddenly met with darkness as something large and heavy hit him over the head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reinhardt soon lol


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for the encouragement, I love to see that! I've been editing this chapter since before I was done writing chapter 3, to fully expose myself, and i dont know if im really happy with where it is, but i dont know where else to take it. so again, im just gonna wiggle my hands like ik what im doing.

It had been a while since Sombra had changed up his room’s decoration, he thought as he looked around. There were typically flowers in the corner, but the vase was absent, as was her chair.

In…fact, the whole room was different.

He sat up in a flurry, realizing very quickly that this was no room.

This was a cell.

Siebren breathed hard, the sparse objects in the cell floating up around him.

“Glad to hear you’re awake, Siebren.” Moira’s voice called from somewhere nearby, and Siebren only calmed a little bit, forcing himself to put everything back down.

“Moira?” He asked, concerned, floating to the front, looking up and down the hallway. He couldn’t see anyone, but there were certainly other cells around him, the walls thick, and the barrier before him impassible.

“Yes,” She confirmed. “They captured me. Reyes too, for that matter. I’m not certain about Lacroix or Sombra. I don’t think they’re here, but they might be in another part of the base. Or they might have made it back to transport.”

“Did…did you mean to put me in a cell?”

Moira sighed dramatically. “Of _course_ not.” She tapped her long fingernails somewhere metallic, perhaps the floor, or a wall. “They probably don’t know what to do with you now that they have you. You did almost help us, and we were fighting them.”

“Why wouldn’t I have helped?” Siebren was only confused by this. “Moira, Lacroix almost killed you.”

Moira was quiet, then, as though she didn’t know what to say.

Footsteps from outside, pianissimo bass notes that preceded the door opening to the hall.

“Dr. De Kuiper? Are you awake?” It was…Specimen 28. He knew in the back of his mind that if he didn’t like being called Sigma, he doubted the gorilla would enjoy his scientific label either.

Fear struck through him, realizing clearly that he’d been put into a cell by these people. Moira had told him, time and time again that good people had failed him before.

What was stopping them from failing again?

“Y, yes.” He managed to say, unable to keep his apprehension out of his voice.

“He’s skittish, Winston.” Moira coolly analyzed. “I believe I said in previous correspondences that he has significant trauma related to medicine and imprisonment.”

Winston? He’d taken Harold’s name…?

Right. Harold was gone.

Moira had shown him those news records when he’d asked; the Horizon Lunar Colony had been gone almost as long as he had.

It felt like a weakness he couldn’t afford here, whispers curling around him viciously as he did it, but tears fell against his will at the memory. The last time he’d seen his sometime lover hadn’t felt like a goodbye, and yet it was one, and would always be one.

“We can’t just let him have full access to the facility without having done any checks on him.” Winston disagreed, though he seemed conflicted. “Even with everything you sent me, we can’t trust that information at face value.”

Moira let out a long sigh, tapping her fingers away at the floor. “Have fun, then.” She dismissed them, and Winston finally appeared in front of his cell.

Winston looked suitably guilty at finding him curled on his cot, the large man trying to shrink, block out unpleasant memories that teased on the edge of his consciousness, of white walls and white ceilings and never-ending lights.

At least it was dark down here. But it didn’t have any of the creature comforts he’d gotten used to, tchotchkes from Sombra, flowers from Moira, Lacroix’s quiet companionship, and occasionally- when the man decided fit- Reyes’ own presence, often quieter than Lacroix, and never when anyone else was around to see the man remove his mask and exist in the same space with the only thing more dangerous than himself.

“Dr. De Kuiper.” He addressed, coughing a bit as Siebren looked at him with a guarded look, his brow furrowed. “I understood that you recognized me.”

“Yes, you were…Dr. Winston’s favorite. Number 28. The one who’d steal his glasses,” He recalled, absent, looking to the glasses on the gorilla’s face, and seeing Harold in them. “Glad to see that some part of him continues to exist, though he’s long since left us.”

Winston’s expression softened. “I take it you learned of it then.”

“Dr. O’Deorain filled me in on many things that have happened since my accident.” He agreed, quiet. “Though I…I cannot say if the two coincided, but I recall that the melody of the universe gave a dirge, of something leaving me behind for good, sometime long after imprisonment, but long before I was discovered.”

“Melody?” Winston sounded apprehensive, and Siebren chuckled, giving him a knowing look.

“I’m aware no one can hear it as I can. Well, I think that the short one who has time bend around her might have at some point. It’s the universe itself, vast, ever expanding.” He took in a steadying breath. “I’ve heard it ever since the accident in space. I’ve come to accept it as apart of me, and not even a particularly worrying part. But, well…” He pauses, trying to find the words.

“It’s a warning sign.” Moira spoke up. “When he’s about to lash out. He’ll start mentioning it getting louder. If he unleashes the fullest extent of his abilities, you might hear it yourself. Pray you’re not in his line of fire if you can hear it.”

Siebren rubbed his head again, feeling the bruising back there and making a pained face. “What on earth hit me?” He asked, instead of focusing on the implicit danger of having him around. He was trying to get in, not scare them off.

“Ah,” Winston looked sheepish. “Well… You see, uh,”

“Lieutenant Wilhelm, though I suppose he would just be Wilhelm now.” Moira dryly said, shifting in her cell. “Big man, and as big a hammer. He did the same to Reyes after the ninja choked me out.” She scoffed. “I still can’t believe it- give the mildly unstable man with an already fractured mind a brain injury.” She sarcastically muttered. “See how it turns out. Imbeciles.”

“You weren’t coming willingly.” Winston said, guilty. “And we didn’t fill in everyone on you joining us, Dr. De Kuiper, I _am_ sorry for what happened.”

“Is that why I’m in a cell?” He asked, understanding Moira’s logic easily. “Because you were worried that a concussion might turn me a little…” He didn’t know how to express it with words, and so whistled like a bird, twirling a finger by his ear.

“It _was_ a theory.” Moira groused, hissing suddenly. “Quit it, Reyes. I’m _not_ apologizing.”

Siebren sighed at that, figuring that Reyes was well and truly upset with him and Moira for their actions. “It mostly just hurts. I- I’d prefer to be out there, than in here. The cell is…a lot worse than the injury.” He used his words in the way Moira had stressed for him to do.

Winston shifted, seeming uncertain. “I’ll have to call a meeting on you, even though I’m in charge here, I can’t just let you loose without talking to everyone about it. I’m not eager to repeat the mistakes of the former leaders of Overwatch.”

Moira breathed out through her nose in a facsimile of a laugh at that, and it felt like there was something Siebren was missing there.

“If you must, I wish to ask that you do it…quickly.” Siebren murmured, quiet. “If…if I’m going back _there_ …I’d like to know sooner than later.”

Winston looked like he’d been punched in the gut, “We wouldn’t…we _won’t_ send you back.” He denied firmly, but Moira huffed, willing to say what Siebren couldn’t.

“Then are you planning to put him _down_ if they don’t want him? If you do not take him, and you’re not going to give him back to The Hague, and obviously you can’t exactly hand him back over to Talon, then, well, where’s he supposed to go?” She hissed again, obviously experiencing something from Reyes. “Quit that. We’ll figure out something. We always have, Gabriel.”  
  
The idea of being killed made Siebren’s breathing pick up, and Winston suddenly understood what was being laid out. It was Overwatch, imprisonment, or death.

The walls really felt like they were closing in on him, and Siebren closed his eyes, putting his head down, feeling gravity compress in on itself around him, suspending him midair like he was chained to the ceiling, the walls, and the floor, and yet the only thing actually holding him was the cell.

He wished for a long, terrible moment that Moira had lied to him. It really would have been easier. He- he could have ignored things. He could have asked her to do the thing she didn’t want to do. Undo some of his progress; unravel a bit of his mind. Surely, he’d spent long enough in pieces that to be unmade a little bit wouldn’t…hurt, right?

At least he wouldn’t be in this spot.

“I’ll…make the case for you, Dr. De Kuiper.” Winston said, seeming unsure of himself, leaving them alone in silence once more.

XXXXX

He wasn’t sure how long he was left floating in nothingness, in an increasingly desperate panic only aided by Moira occasionally talking to him, though she was dealing with her own set of problems, if her occasional pained sounds were anything to go by. The low thrum of anxiety only matched by the thrum of a note held out far too long.

“Good news! We convened the emergency meeting, and, well, you’re able to come out of that cell.” Winston said as soon as he opened the door.

“Bad news?” Moira asked dryly, voice ragged.

“He’ll need a minder.” Winston said, deflating quickly.

“That’s not a terrible thing.” Moira reassured Siebren, shifting in her cell. “I was your minder at first, Siebren. Sombra occasionally stepped in too, once we were confident in your control over at least the basics. All they’ll do is make sure you’re doing alright.”

Siebren unfurled, slowly descending back to the floor, his core trembling with the nerves that had built up. “What of Moira and Reyes?” He asked Winston, who was once again standing before his cell, watching him float down with no small amount of amazement at the unique abilities.

Winston’s face darkened, as he took in what he’d asked. “We haven’t decided yet. It’s…a multifaceted issue. With no clear answers.”

“Don’t worry about us.” Moira breathed, quiet. “Siebren, like I said. Reyes and I made our choices. We can manage the consequences. While I wish you had gone ahead and not gotten _us_ caught, well. I appreciate the sentiment of not wanting to leave us undefended.”

Siebren shifted with a guilty knot in his stomach. “I’ll try to keep that in mind, Dr. O’Deorain.”

Winston let him out of his cell, and he near instantly flew out of it, wanting to be free of the restraints. It wasn’t long at all after leaving his cell that he saw what remained of O’Deorain and Reyes.

O’Deorain had been mutilating _herself_ , it seemed, her purpling arm clawed and monstrous as it dug into herself. She seemed irritated by its work, trying to stop it.

Reyes was unconscious in a cell across from her, a black and red heap with a broken mask halfheartedly on the face.

She seemed worn out, her good hand wrapped around its wrist, seeming to wrestle with it. Dual eyes locked with his for a moment, before she closed them, and turned away, finally ripping out the purpled claw from her stomach and gasping.

“Fuck, Reyes,” She muttered. “Keep in mind that our guardian angel will almost certainly show no love for me.”

Winston nudged him forward, and Siebren kept moving, in spite of the growing pit in his stomach at the idea of leaving her here.

Moira kept her back to him, as though signaling to leave them to the darkness of their cells.

The door to the cells closed behind him, and they were presented with an elevator after a stretch of corridors that looked to formerly have been interrogation cells. A dark mark with a stylized white skull, punctuated by the sword in the middle was on the wall.

“Will they be alright?” Siebren asked, needing to know.

Winston shifted as they reached the elevator, typing in a code, seeming to slump a bit at the question. “I don’t know yet, Dr. De Kuiper. We’ll keep you informed.”

He was brought straight to a room, and told to stay there for the moment. Unlike Moira’s facility in Oasis, now a long distant memory, the entire Watchpoint seemed driven by tech. He would have been delighted, if it didn’t mean that once the door was shut behind him, he was locked into his room, left alone with the quiet.

It wasn’t a bad room. It was a lot like how his room looked early on, if a bit more stylized, the bed sheets a bright Overwatch blue. There wasn’t a window either, and no flowers. There was a set of clothes, and he looked down at his Talon uniform, swallowing thickly. He had no reason to be wearing this.

He’d betrayed his team. And look where it’d got them. A concussion, Moira and Reyes’ very lives held over their heads.

And yet, Siebren took off the red armor, slowly peeling back the image of a weapon. He wasn’t going to be another weapon. There was that at least. But he might never see a lab again, and that thought was like another sword through him. He was beginning to understand why Moira hadn’t wanted this day to come. And yet, in her mind, it was inevitable.

Her standing over Reyes’ sick form, his hand tight in her own, two shadows that overlapped desperately in their attempt to maintain themselves. “ _All our choices have had a cost, Gabriel.”_

This choice certainly had come with a great cost. He knew that it would have no matter what choice he would make.

The shirt was shockingly too big on his frame, and so he kept on his uniform’s pants, rubbing at the fabric curiously. Obviously, they’d not had clothes in his size, but they’d had to find something for him to wear. He glanced at himself in the mirror, and gently fingered the implants on the sides of his face, the one that had been previously broken now just missing entirely, a hole on the side of his face that must have bled.

Moira hadn’t elaborated on it, but he was starting to have the suspicious feeling about all his missions, wondering how long he’d been like this. How long had Sigma been used?

He glanced down at his Talon uniform, and crushed it with gravity, hand shaking as memories played just at the edge of his mind, just ever so slightly out of reach as the clothes turned to grey material that was hardly recognizable as anything in particular but matter.

Siebren was forced to cast away thoughts of Sigma when a knock came at his door, and he jolted upwards, accidentally hitting his head on the too low ceiling, too used to his quarters in Oasis or Rome.

“Y, yes,” He said, forced to clear his throat, tucking the overly large shirt into his pants, moving towards the door, and it opened _for_ him.

He was surprised when no one was at his usual eye level, and was forced to look all the way down. “Miss Odalede?” Siebren managed not to have his mouth fall open and stare at her, so there was that.

Big brown eyes looked up at him in both amazement and horror. “So they were right. I’d been asked about holding you, but I hadn’t actually believed it was _you_.” Efi said, suddenly nervous around him.

Right. He was Talon. She would be nervous around that- should be, even.

He floated down until his feet touched the floor, and he caught himself on the door, still weak when it came to standing. “Well,” He started, unsure of where to go from there. “The full story is complicated.”

Brown eyes looked up at him, the young girl looking just shy of tearful. “ _Why_ were you Talon? Did you join them and fake your own death? That’s what Sojourn was saying about Commander Reyes.”

He lifted his hands up, wanting to comfort her, but she backed away in fear, and so he put his hands down, slowly pulling back. “I didn’t fake my own death,” He denied, shaking his head. “My experiment…when it failed, I…don’t know exactly what happened. I wasn’t all there anymore. But all around me, I could control gravity itself. Between an unstable mental state and the ability for my emotions to alter the gravity field, I was considered dangerous.” He lowered his head, ashamed to say that. “I…the Dutch government determined that I was too dangerous to treat conventionally, and so they locked me in The Hague. Moira told me I was there for around a decade.” He rubbed his hands, nervous. The story finally made sense, and he surprised himself as words kept tumbling out.

It was as Moira said- he knew, on some level, what was going on. And he had for some time.

“Talon found me there, broke me out. They wanted a weapon, and discovered that enough of my intellect was in tact after a decade of isolation that they could use me for research as well.” He shook his head. “Moira was placed in charge of my recovery at some point, and she’s the one who reached out to Overwatch on my behalf, thinking that one day, I’d actually recover enough to understand what was going on.”

He looked up at Efi, nervous for her judgment, and found that she wasn’t alone.

An unfamiliar and yet familiar face stared at him, blue eyes hard. She looked similar to Sombra, in that her implants made her look quite striking. Efi had turned from fear, to some kind of sympathy, but the woman drew his attention and spoke first.

“You’re still dangerous.” The woman disagreed, standing in front of Efi protectively. “Winston showed us the records from The Hague. At the end of the day, I was there when the last person Talon let go was rescued, and Lacroix couldn’t crush human skulls under the force of gravity with not even a thought.”

“Lacroix?” He startled, realizing that was who she was referring to. “Did you manage to capture her?” Siebren asked, nervous, and the woman kept still, her eyes steeled against him.

Sojourn turned to Efi, ignoring him. “Efi, I understand that he looks nice, friendly, even. But Talon is dangerous, and Moira O’Deorain _especially_ cannot be trusted.” She said, firm. “Don’t come here alone again. If something happened to you, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.”

Blue eyes found his again, and she shook her head. “I understand, you’ve got no where else to go but us, and Winston doesn’t want you being put away again, or killed, over something you can’t help. But stay away from her.” The woman warned, taking Efi by the hand, and walking away from the room with her quickly.

His chest constricted as he processed her words, and he backed up, any illusion of humanity completely stripped from himself. With a thoughtless gesture, he closed his door with a flick of his wrist without touching it, and he backed all the way up to his bed, before sitting down on it. His core trembled as his composure threatened to give way.

He wasn’t Siebren here, nor was he Dr. De Kuiper. _It_ was Sigma; a weapon, not a person. Tears slipped out without his permission as he realized that he’d betrayed anyone who’d ever have treated him otherwise.

The only kindness granted was that he was not bound to the bed, and there were no cameras to watch him break under that crushing realization that he was really, truly alone; a weapon, a danger to society, something to be locked away.

Moira was right. Good people failed all the time.

XXXXX

No one came for some time, which didn’t shock him. Once again, he didn’t know what time it was, no timepiece to inform him, no window to aid figuring it out. He lay on that bed, unable to cry anymore, and just the yawning void of loneliness there as his old friend, ringing in his ears as the melody filled the emptiness left behind.

“Knock knock,” Came a voice from outside, startling Sigma into sitting up and readying a defensive stance. “Uhm, if I come inside, Dr. De Kuiper, you won’t hurl your hyperspheres at me, will you? Sombra asked that I check on you.”

Sombra? Sigma unfurled, and shook his head, forcing himself to clear through the fog, swallowing the ghost all too willing to reclaim control. No one could hurt him again if he hurt them first, but Siebren didn’t want to do that, nothing would hurt him, but nothing would change, either.

“Come in,” He managed after a few false starts, feeling like he was hanging on by a thread, his frame feeling incredibly weak once the violent urge left him.

Another new face poked in, and gave him an overly cheery smile, before the expression wrinkled with confusion. “Oh dear, she definitely wasn’t kidding.” He made his way forward cautiously, before extending a hand forward. “My name is Baptiste, I’m a friend of Sombra’s. She called in a favor.”

Siebren didn’t know what to say, and so he kept his face down, looking at his hands, the ones with the power to hurt.

“Has…anyone come in to check on you?” Baptiste asked, concern leaking through his tone, and Siebren shook his head.

“Miss Odalede came by to ask me why I was apart of Talon.” He murmured, feeling very far away from himself. “A woman came to get her away from me. Told me to stay away.”

Baptiste nodded; quiet, coming to him with his hands up. “How about I do a little checkup. I’m a medic.” He was finally next to Siebren, and set down his bag, waiting for Siebren’s permission.

“Oh,” He said, swallowing to try and soothe his scratchy throat. “That sounds fine.” He agreed, mild, forcing himself to stay still as Baptiste took out his equipment.

“I understand; it can be hard to defend it.” Baptiste said, speaking kindly as he slowly did a checkup, seeming to understand that there was a very thin level of trust between him and Siebren. “Still, Dr. Ziegler has certainly lost a few degrees of my respect if she’s not come to perform a check up herself.” He gave a self-deprecating smile. “Though, I suspect my respect doesn’t mean much, being former Talon myself.”

“Winston, that was his name, right- he, he mentioned that they needed to talk further about Moira and Reyes.” Siebren mentioned, and Baptiste hummed, nodding.

“Yes, the gorilla’s name is Winston.” Baptiste agreed, flashing a light into his eyes. “I suppose that’s what’s holding up Angela, at least, I hope it is.” He grimaced. “Are you experiencing any nausea or discomfort?”

Siebren shifted as he nodded slowly, uncertain. “Is Sombra okay?” He asked, instead of answering any further.

Baptiste snorted. “She’s more than okay. She and Widowmaker escaped together, she seemed pleased with how things went.” When Siebren didn’t respond, Baptiste realized his sadness. “I don’t think she was anticipating this sort of reception, Dr. De Kuiper.”

He didn’t know how to answer that, and so he let Baptiste pull away, the man frowning about something or other. “They asked me to stay put.” He explained, not wanting the younger man to feel bad about not asking him to come with.

Baptiste hummed, nodding. “From what I can tell, you do have a concussion, though…granted, since Reinhardt hit you with his hammer, it wasn’t an unforeseen outcome. It was also quite the thing to hear that he did the same to the Reaper.”

“Reyes couldn’t fight back.” Siebren muttered, not finding humor in it. “Moira was holding him down so that I could get away from him. I only helped because if I hadn’t, Lacroix would have shot her. Hardly the way to repay her for getting me out of Talon.”

Baptiste put his things away, nodding thoughtfully. “Sombra said that you probably would be hungry.” He segued, and Siebren curled inwards.

“They asked me to stay put.”

“They said someone would be by, right? I’m by now.” Baptiste reasoned with him. “No reason to keep you locked in here. Sombra said nothing but good things about you. Genji alone did at least as many bad things as you, and with Overwatch’s backing and of relatively sound mind.”

Siebren shifted awkwardly, still uncertain about actually going with him, “People think I’m a,” He stuttered, choking on the word. “A weapon. Dangerous.”

Baptiste grimaced at this, nodding. “The general sentiment towards Talon is pretty low around here. Most don’t even realize I used to be Talon, and I try not to advertise it. But there are new people here too, some who will be a little more likely to be friendly at first.”

He took Siebren by the hand, dragging him. “We’re not staying in here. We decided that you weren’t a prisoner. I won’t let them treat you like one.” Baptiste said firmly, walking out the door, which opened for him without trouble.

The base was far larger than Moira’s home in Oasis, and he was seeing far more of this place than he ever had of either the Talon base in Rome, Venice, or even Moira and Gabriel’s outpost in Rome that- he now realized- had the same symbols as the cells they had been placed in by Overwatch.

Baptiste seemed confident enough, in the same way that Sombra did. He could easily imagine the two as friends, though she had never mentioned him before.

They reached an area that looked to be a rather large kitchen and dining area, and Siebren again shied away when he spotted other people sitting around.

“So, what are they doing exactly, Brigitte?” The shorter one said, sipping what appeared to be soda with the young woman he- he remembered fighting, apparently, Brigitte.

“They mentioned that they had to convene a meeting about the other two.” Brigitte seemed pretty crestfallen. “While papa mentioned that, we will probably have a larger discussion later, Reaper in particular is a matter for the old vanguard first.”

“They knew him before, didn’t they?” The young man seemed concerned about that. “Talon just…takes, doesn’t it? It hardly seems fair.”

Baptiste coughed, and the two others jumped up a little bit. “Brigitte, Lúcio, this is Dr. De Kuiper.” He introduced, and Siebren felt hot shame go up his neck, that he was acting like this. He was a fully-grown adult, he could participate in a little social interaction, however strained it might be.

“Ah, hello.” He waved, awkward. The woman- Brigitte- seemed pretty shocked to see him- he remembered, the girl with the shield. “Sorry about our, hm, previous encounter.” He apologized, and felt it fall flat, cringing internally.

“Whoa, I’m surprised to see you standing.” The man- Lúcio- said, grinning at him, albeit awkward. “Reinhardt hit you right over the head. It wasn’t pretty.”

“Technically, I’m not standing.” Siebren said, taking the bait to ease the tension, floating higher off the ground. “The world has been spinning considerably, but, well. I’ve been floating for some time now and I’ve got considerable practice.”

Brigitte seemed to ease up, getting up quickly to investigate him, circling him with curiosity and confusion written clear across her face. “How on earth are you floating? I know that Omnics can float by some sort of magnetism, Zenyatta hasn’t really explained it to me, but you’re human. I think.”

“I mean, I think I’ve spent as much time, if not more, as Number 28, er, Winston, in space, but I reckon I’m still human.” He relaxed, folding his hands nervously. “This was a unforeseen by-product of my accident on the I.S.S.”

“That’s a pretty sweet by-product.” Lúcio said, leaning back in his chair. “I’m assuming those by-products are why everyone here is pretty scared of you.”

Siebren folded a bit, but Lúcio raised his hands, shaking his head. “No, no, I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t really read the report, all I needed to read was the report calling you an ‘it,’ to understand. You didn’t ask for this. It was all from an accident.”

Siebren didn’t really know what to say, and Lúcio seemed to realize having it all brought up might not feel the best on the same day his freedom had been voted on.

“Smooth, Lú.” Brigitte said, patting him on the shoulder. “Well, you’re here now.” She said, cheerful. “Hungry? Thirsty? We’ve got sodas, er, tea and coffee too. Some snacks, and leftovers if you actually are hungry- I think it’s Reinhardt’s turn to sort out food, so god knows when we’ll actually eat.”

“Especially if they’re trying to figure out O’Deorain and the Reaper tonight.” Baptiste agreed, setting out water for Siebren, the man awkwardly taking a seat at a bar stool at the table closest to the table they were sitting at. Brigitte sat back down with Lúcio, and Baptiste sat next to him.

A light bulb suddenly went off in Brigitte’s head, if the way she lit up was anything to go off. “Wait, you _know_ them. There are rumors, but no one’s told us anything.” She gestured to herself and Lúcio. “Who is the Reaper, really, under the mask?”

Siebren realized, suddenly, that she was actually asking him. He licked his lips, and drank his water, frankly wondering if he was at liberty to tell them. “Well.” He rubbed his neck, “I like to think I knew Moira, but Reaper, well. Uhm. Knowing is a stretch.”

“It’s not actually Commander Gabriel Reyes, is it?” Lúcio asked directly, giving him a questioning look, obviously able to tell that he was avoiding the answer.

Siebren rubbed his fingers on the glass of water, swallowing hard. “Every time Moira talked to him, he was called Gabriel, or Reyes. But…I don’t actually remember too much of Overwatch, aside from Miss Amari, but that’s because we met.” He chuckled, trying to get out from underneath their incredulous stare, which only was topped when Baptiste spat out his drink.

“Wait, wait, back up. You met Ana Amari, former second in command of Overwatch?” Lúcio asked, finger up as he thought hard on that. “When? _How_?”

“Through Moira, a few months ago, I think.” He answered honestly. “Erm, well. I don’t know why she was there; Moira just said that it wasn’t important, and that I wasn’t supposed to mention her presence to anyone there, so, not to Reyes, Sombra, or Lacroix.” He shifted. “She was producing some sort of off-the-books serum, I never asked what for.”

Brigitte and Lúcio’s eyes were wide. “I thought that she was dead.” Lúcio said, turning to Brigitte for clarification.

“We had a funeral for her almost 7 years ago.” Brigitte agreed, quiet.

“Right, I keep forgetting. Moira’s Schrodinger’s cat.” Siebren murmured, trying to get the expressions off their faces.

“Moira’s what now?” Baptiste asked, voice calm, holding up a hand to stop the others from questioning.

“Moira would wax poetic about Miss Amari at length, there’s this flower garden in Oasis that Moira planted because it reminded her of Ana, and, well, Ana mentioned to me that they were close, before.”

Brigitte seemed too shocked for words, while Lúcio stood up, the man extraordinarily short as he held up his hands to pace in a circle. Baptiste nodded, almost sagely at them both.

“So, can we ask you questions about Talon’s hierarchy?” Brigitte asked, getting a bit of a glint in her eye.

“I can try to tell you what I know, I’m afraid it’s not much.” He rubbed the sides of his face, frowning. “Immediately after my freeing, a man named Vialli took me on as a…well, personal weapon.” He frowned at the recollection. “My memories are scattered and disparate as…Sigma.” He finally spoke his own othering name into existence, and shivered. “Eventually, he got tired of being unable to fully control me with just the implants. So he shoved me off on Moira. I think he thought I might kill her.”

He paused, thought on that seriously for a long second. “I think I tried, albeit unintentionally. Even Sigma recognized her as an ally.” Siebren shook his head to rid himself of those dark memories once more, hands trembling. “And, the implants, I think they’re broken.” He chuckled, lowly, touching where Baptiste had bandaged up the bleeding hole, feeling the way his fingers were shaking as they fluttered against his skin like the heartbeat of a terrified animal. “I can actually hear everything now.”

“I think that’s enough questioning the big guy for now.” Baptiste stepped in, and both Lúcio and Brigitte frowned, before he coughed, looking at them both and leaving no room for argument.

“It’s not like I’m ever going to be able to…go anywhere, again.” Siebren said, trying to comfort them, before realizing how horrifying a concept that was. He bit his lower lip at the thought. “Well, that came out far worse than I thought it would.” He tried to rationalize humor into the dark reality, and failed, the three of them looking at him worriedly, and yet, not denying it. “Winston was always better with these things.”

Their brows collectively rose, seeming confused, and he smiled. “Not the gorilla. Dr. Winston, er, I suppose you could call him your Winston’s…father.” He laughed. “Though what might that make me? Strange uncle? Stepfather?” He waved a hand, shaking that thought away. “Dr. Harold Winston was my colleague and friend. Occasionally my boyfriend, though it was never so official.”

“You know, when I asked if the gorilla from the moon could get any weirder than having to pay taxes to Switzerland, I didn’t think that having a weird gravity controlling man as a stepfather would be something that came up.” The voice was unfamiliar, and it shocked Siebren out of his reverie.

He turned, brow furrowed, as Baptiste let out a quiet curse.

“Oh, hey Lena.” Brigitte said, waving. “Baptiste just was getting Dr. De Kuiper some food.”

Lena? So that was the girl that bended time’s name. Interesting.

“He could have brought food to his room,” Lena pointed out, folding her arms, and Baptiste sighed, leaning back.

“Alright. Maybe I could have. But look at him, Tracer, and tell me that he really wants to hurt someone.”

Her expression faltered as she looked at him, and he gave an awkward smile, understanding that this person was someone who likely held a lot of sway here. “Want to hurt someone or not, he’s Talon, and was just plucked from it.” She shook her head. “We can’t take any chances.”

“So you’re just going to keep him locked up?” Baptiste asked, standing up, seeming a bit angry on his behalf, and Brigitte’s eyebrows went up, looking to Lena in shock.

“You weren’t actually planning on that, were you, Lena?” She said, concerned, and again, Lena faltered.

“We _just_ voted on not making him a prisoner.” Lúcio agreed, standing up as well. “The guy _seems_ friendly.”

“Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it?” She hardened, her hands tiny fists. “Seems. We don’t know. And because we don’t know, we can’t trust. His files are full of fantastic little fun facts of how badly he could hurt us. And even if he- as he is right now- is nice, we don’t have any reliable metric of how mentally there he is, or how stable that is.” She folded her arms, looking away. “Our only information comes from Dr. O’Deorain’s personal files, and that isn’t trustworthy. So he’s on house arrest until we can get a second opinion on him.”

“Tracer,” Baptiste said, shaking his head. “I understand your reasoning. I don’t disagree with it. I trust O’Deorain as far as I can throw her, but,” He was cut off, then and there.

“No buts.” She shook her head, lowering it. “He should be taken back to his room now. So if you’ll come with me?” She said, turning to him, and Siebren let his gaze fall as he fell into line.

The entire walk back, Tracer seemed tense, as if expecting him to do something, try something.

He didn’t reward her with that, going back into his room, before turning to look at her fully, and she wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“Athena,” Tracer said, voice firm. “Disallow visitors without administrator access.”

Siebren felt again, another knife stab through him, and he felt his heart race, watching as Tracer stood just outside the door, seeming to brace for something, anything.

Brown eyes looked up at him, hard, and she finally yelled. “Well? Aren’t you going to stop me?” She said, angry, and hurt. She wanted to hate him; he could see it in her face, in the tightness in her stature.

He didn’t say anything at first, his thoughts ringing hollow in his head for a long moment, before he finally decided to say what he was thinking.

“And what good would that do?” He asked, dully. “Where would I go? My allies are either in your hands or will certainly kill me the next time I see them. What would you be doing in my shoes, right now? I can feel the universe’s touch on you. You’ve heard the melody too. But Talon didn’t find you lost in it. Overwatch did.”

He let his tight grip on the door fall, and he turned back into the room, and let out a long, shuddering breath, before he moved to the bed, and sat down, feeling exactly like how Moira described it. The cards were always stacked against them. There was never a way to win.

(he keeps hearing about how Moira’s untrustworthy, even Moira told him all the things he’d hear about her, and that he could feel however he needed towards her. she was still the only one he trusted, really, truly)

The door never closed, though.

Eventually, something pressed down at the edge of the bed.

“I’m sorry.” She said, and Siebren sat up, turning around, confused.

“I…still don’t trust you.” Tracer said, still seeming guarded, her legs folded on the bed next to him. “Everyone’s looking to me and Winston to lead. I don’t want to repeat mistakes people made before. I don’t want any of my friends to get hurt because I did or didn’t do something. I don’t want to watch someone die because I wasn’t enough.”

With a careful extension of his hand, a gesture she watched with suspicion, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “I understand.” He reassured. “Neither do I. And I don’t want to hurt people.”

The turbulent storm in both of them calmed, as the two sat in the quiet together.

“This is...this is really about Reyes, isn't it?” He realized, slowly piecing things together. “I don’t know the full story, he never really got on with me, but… he seems to be the one everyone’s upset about, Miss Amari’s behavior around him should have suggested as much.”

“Miss Amari?” Tracer asked, quiet, and Siebren nodded.

“Yes, Ana Amari. The more I think about meeting her, the more I can’t help but wonder how I didn’t understand what was going on sooner.” He chuckled, embarrassed. “She came to Moira for aid, and Moira asked I keep it quiet from the others. I figured she was important, but I couldn't understand why.”

“Was, is she okay? She’s not Talon, right?”

“Heavens no, Moira asked I keep it all quiet from Reyes and the others, which told me that she wasn’t Talon. She seemed fine, she was kind enough to me, and her discussion with Moira- as far as I saw- was cordial. We wound up discussing Reyes as well, what he was doing, what he was like…”

“And what is Reyes like?” Tracer asked, biting her lip.

“He’s…deteriorating. Sick with a condition Moira has had little luck in fixing aside from keeping him stable.” He started, the same as he did with Ana. “He and I don’t talk much, but he and Moira seem to get on well with each other. He seems…angry, about a lot of things I don’t understand, and some things I do. He pretends to be unkind and hardened, but he treats people like Lacroix and Sombra with a certain tolerance and sometimes even softness that those like Ogundimu wouldn’t. I’m convinced that if I had been the one to scream, he wouldn’t have flinched. But because it was Sombra, he immediately moved to help.”

Tracer’s hands were bunched up on her pants. “Truth is, Dr. De Kuiper, everyone’s on edge. Myself included. We were anticipating you, but…to get Reyes and O’Deorain as well. To find out that Reaper is Reyes.” She shook her head. “Others had already put two and two together, or at least had suspicions. I just…I didn’t want that to be true. I looked up to him.”

“I think that there is more to Reyes than meets the eye right now.” Siebren assured, trying to be calming. “I…understand that my presence is frightening. But I am doing my best. I want to help.” He shifted. “I know that no one will likely want to do it, but I think giving Moira some first aid and asking her directly about certain things will be a lot more illuminating than just talking amongst yourselves about her.”

“Dr. De Kuiper,” Tracer frowned. “O’Deorain can’t be trusted.”

He shifted on the bed, the disparate words standing stark against his reality- he still trusted Moira more than these children who had looked for reasons to lock him away. “Then why trust her about me?”

“We’re still debating how much we’ll do that.” Tracer explained quietly. “A lot of it will depend on your behavior and how you act around others.”

Siebren’s heart constricted, and he nodded, going a bit listless at the idea of being on his own here.

“But…well,” She sighed. “Athena, disregard previous order.” She gave in. “If Baptiste wants in, that’s his decision.”

“I’ll inform him of your decision.” A voice came from the walls, and Siebren physically jolted, jumping backwards as he looked around. He was aware of places like this, but to hear it when he wasn’t expecting it…

Tracer had jumped up as well, and she looked at him incredulously. “A big guy like you, with gravity powers from space, afraid of an A.I.?” She asked, and Siebren rubbed his head.

“I’m used to music- not, not voices.” He pointed out, able to finally crack some humor that actually landed, Tracer giving him a snort, shaking her head. Slowly, Siebren sat down on the bed, rubbing his temples. “Granted, anything hitting me hard enough might change that.”

“Ooooh,” Tracer’s face cringed, as if she recalled that. “Right.” She rubbed her neck, seeming sheepish now. “Reinhardt smacked you with his hammer. And we’ve been occupying Dr. Ziegler all day…”

“Baptiste already looked me over.” He reassured, giving her a faint smile. “Though I’m sure someone should look over Reyes and Moira. Reyes’ ability to communicate with her seems to mean he can control that arm of hers. And he’s very unhappy with her.”

Her face went from subtly relieved, to confused, to shocked.

“That’s…I didn’t understand any of that. We’ll have to come back to that. I’ll ask… Baptiste to bring some first aid equipment down.”

“Wait, why not Dr. Ziegler?” Siebren asked, and Tracer rubbed her neck.

“Well, Angela hates Moira.”

The name suddenly placed as the pretty blonde from the battlefield, and Siebren blinked.

“That makes no sense, why on _earth_ would she have slept with her?” He asked, and Tracer’s jaw dropped.

“You know, I think I’ve changed my mind about you. Tell me everything.” She said, turning around fully, sitting cross-legged on his bed, back completely straightened, and Siebren laughed, recalling how much he and Harold had unintentionally gotten closer over his ability to retain the best gossip no one else realized he overheard all the time.

“Lena, dear, I know that you mean well,” A distinctly masculine, unfamiliar voice said, rounding the corner. “But the kids are right, we _just_ voted on not making the doctor a prisoner. He’s practically Winston’s only family. What is discussed in those files does sound awfully scary, but treating him badly isn’t the best way to go about making a good impression on someone who willingly put down his arms to join us.

A large frame entered the doorway, and was obviously surprised to find Siebren and Lena sitting across from each other, Lena looking a fair amount like a young woman at a sleepover, ready to hear gossip, and looked frankly embarrassed.

“I mean, I know. I just…” Her shoulders slumped forward. “I _know_. I just…I don’t want anyone to get hurt. I know what happened with Amélie, and look at her now.”

He assumed this must be Wilhelm, who gave him a sheepish smile as Siebren rubbed his forehead, feeling his head spin again at all the information he was suddenly taking in.

“Technically speaking, Tracer, Dr. De Kuiper never attacked us during that final battle. The only action he took was to prevent their sniper from killing O’Deorain, which only tells us further that there was at least some truth to O’Deorain’s narrative. Reyes lashed out to attack him as well. And a traitor to a traitor is our friend.” He rationalized, and smiled brightly, offering Siebren a hand. “Reinhardt Wilhelm, I’m terribly sorry for hitting you that hard. Winston neglected to brief me on the full situation.”

"That was my fault." Tracer admitted, readily. "I forgot to tell him that Lotus Eater had messaged us saying it was time, meaning by the time he knew what was going on, they were already here."

"You can call me Siebren," He allowed, voice soft as he looked Reinhardt over, a memory playing on the edge of his vision. "I think I recognize you."

Reinhardt visibly perked up, grinning broadly. "I'd be shocked if you did not! I was the poster child for the crusaders, and I worked for Overwatch for many, many years."

He was instantly brought back to that poster of the handsome young man with the golden locks and a giant shield. "Be the Shield Germany Needs," He recalled, saying the slogan in proper German, only pausing to wince at his Dutch accent in the other language, and Reinhardt nodded eagerly. 

"That was me!" He agreed, graciously not commenting on the accent. "Well, Lena, we said he only needed a minder. Baptiste surely could be the one we assign that to." He pointed out, and Lena sighed, nodding, seeming to take his words to heart.

"I know, I know, Reinhardt." She frowned, seeming upset at herself. "I was being an asshole back there. I had hoped we could resolve the O'Deorain and Reyes situation first, and then go back to talking about how to help Siebren integrate."

"I don't think there's an easy solution to the situation my old friend has put himself in." Reinhardt said, tensing up slightly at the name, and Siebren privately agreed, thinking back to all those times Moira would talk to him about Reyes' condition and the conundrum that they'd found themselves in. He thought specifically to that man who didn't seem at all like the Reyes he'd known, back at the party, and then again to the photographs, and to Reyes attacking Moira while she was trying to treat his condition.

He shrugged, subdued. “It’s been a long couple of days for me, and I imagine things will only get more complicated before they can get less complicated.” He laughed, softly, trying to feel any kind of better for what had been happening. “Probably a lot more complicated, but…well.” He rubbed his hands together.

“Get some rest, Siebren,” Tracer encouraged, getting up off the bed, walking to Reinhardt, the two of them heading out the door. “Ah, someone will come get you for dinner. Probably Baptiste.”

“Tracer- Torbjörn, Angela and I came to an agreement that we should question De Kuiper first,” Reinhardt intoned, quietly as the two walked away. “Brigitte told me that he’s very cooperative in giving us what he knows. It will undoubtedly be useful for questioning O'Deorain and Reyes later."

He felt his stomach fall back to his feet as the door closed behind them, that he was only useful inasmuch he could cooperate, and he shivered as he looked to his hands, and again, wondered what answers they might hold for him.

What answers he might hold for _them._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yeah, i dont think ow would make the best first impression, nor would they immediately trust gravity grandpa. but they're willing to give him a chance, however strained it might be. 
> 
> At this point in my fic, OW is comprised of Bastion, Torb, Baptiste, Lúcio, Sojourn, Efi + Orisa, Pharah and the squad from Zero Hour. The old vanguard is Torb, Reinhardt, Genji, Angela, Sojourn, Winston and Tracer. Basically: anyone who was in Overwatch around the time of its disbanding has priority on deciding Reyes' fate, as they knew him, and many of them knew him as a friend. They are in fact outnumbered by the youngins, so they haven't actually told them the full situation.
> 
> Everyone on the team voted to give him amnesty, just the amount of freedom to give him was what people disagreed on.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so glad yall are still readin! I wanna be clear, siebren was referring to himself as an it, no one in OW called him an it. Now, vialli def did and others after his accident did as well, especially among those who 'treated' him, 'Subject Sigma' is definitely something that will come back, and Siebren can recall what that was like, though its almost always through a lens of static and disconnect. there's a layer of trauma there both from how he was treated for a decade and then how he was treated following breaking him out of Talon.
> 
> shameless self-promotion here, a lotta people really like my moira characterization and I am absolutely thrilled 2 bits to hear it. if yall are curious abt her and want to read more in this universe, there's a whole completed Moirana fanfic that explains more of her character and her 'backstory' for this particular universe... and a sequel to it that is more a midquel to this fic that explains why she reached out to OW. The OG fic's called "Blue Lotus," and the sequel/midquel is called "Moonlight," and they are both fully completed. help yaself if ur curious they're apart of this series.

It wasn’t horrible.

It wasn’t Oasis, the place in the desert that he and his team could retreat to and find solace. But it wasn’t horrible.

They’d questioned him about what he knew, and he tried to give them everything they asked, but there were things he didn’t know. Talon’s grander goals were elusive to him. He could confirm some members, but not many. He often referred them to Moira, but they never seemed to want to talk about her.

The only one who really went out of his way to talk to him was Baptiste; the others seemed too busy to deal with him, but even Baptiste couldn’t be around him fully, and without much else going on, without anyone else really around…it was easy to feel lonely.

He’d seen Efi and on occasion Orisa, but when he had he’d turned around and walked the other way, respecting everyone’s wishes for him to keep away.

Siebren really, truly, missed Moira. She always had her mouth moving to talk about _something_ , and an ear that really wanted to listen to _him_ , and not just useful information he might have. She had always made the effort to spend time with him and the effort wasn’t forced. Moira just enjoyed his company.

It was hard to think Baptiste liked spending time with him.

What was worse was that no one would tell him what was going on with her or Reyes. They _were_ prisoners, but that was basically all he knew. They were alive, but no one really knew what to do with them.

There were whispers about Ana Amari and Jack Morrison, but he wasn’t really in the loop on either of those issues, apart from what little information he had about Moira having helped Ana Amari, something that was taken with a pinch of salt, apparently.

Baptiste was too busy to keep on him, so within the day they gave up on the illusion he would be constantly minded. He was allowed out of the room, and he spent as little time in it as possible afterwards, wanting to distance himself from that prison. Time had stopped mattering, with no work to be done and no one ever coming for him.

Winston had spoken with him, some, but he was running the nuts and bolts of this operation, and as such, was busy. Winston didn’t really have much time at all to begin a new relationship with someone who had known his father prior to working with Talon.

It did always go back to that original sin. Talon.

He found himself on cliff sides often, looking at the stars, trying to find any meaning left for him. Any purpose. With so much of his life gone, it was only too easy to slip back into meaninglessness, empty gazes and a submission to the music of the universe.

It was harder and harder to hate Moira at all.

Siebren drew into himself, and he resolved to stay there. He was dangerous. He didn’t want to prove them right and hurt them, and so, like they’d asked, he stayed away. He understood perfectly.

He went out for food one night after getting a message from Baptiste that he needed to eat, when he accidentally snuck up on a short girl with glasses, and he put a hand on her shoulder- and she screamed in surprise, the sound short but genuinely terrified, and he’d reeled back as well, launching himself backwards, trying to _get away._

Guns had been on him in an instant, and he put up his shield and shuddered and he pulled up his hyperspheres to defend himself.

The other shoe had dropped. They were going to kill him. He was already hyperventilating as the world around him fed into his emotions and the melody got louder and he lost sense of the ground and he lost sense of _himself_ and he prepared to fight until he died if he needed to.

“ _Enough_!” Another shield went in front of his own. “That’s enough.” Reinhardt stood there, and Siebren felt his hand wrapped tight around Siebren’s wrist, holding him steady as his hyperspheres dances around him. “He accidentally frightened Mei because he snuck up on her and we pull _weapons_ on him?” Reinhardt shook his head, disbelieving.

The group around them managed to look a little sheepish, and Siebren breathed hard, his hyperspheres dispelling into nothingness as he let the gravity return to normal.

“Hey, the new big guy’s nice. What the fuck, Fareeha?” Lúcio’s voice was clear within the crowd, as Brigitte told off her ‘papa’ in the background.

“We are all tense because of what is going on. But we do not turn weapons on someone under our protection.” Reinhardt said firmly. “You shame yourselves.”

The many familiar unfamiliars looked away, all a bit embarrassed, or irritated that they were being lectured to, or still worried. They dispersed, and the woman he’d frightened stood there, her entire face a brilliant shade of red of having caused all that.

Siebren couldn’t turn off his gravity field so easily, and he breathed hard as he tried to make things stop floating around him, because, please, he just wanted to be normal for one second, was it so hard to want to return to some kind of normalcy?

A few tears slipped out against his will, his entire form shaking as he pulled his arm away from Reinhardt, shaking his head at him as he fell onto the floor as he finally, finally forced the gravity field to break, and he broke with it.

“Siebren,” Reinhardt tried, sounding all too much like he was talking to a scared animal and trying to calm it down, and he felt a few more tears slip out, and he stumbled on his feet, holding himself together with his arms as he walked out of there, embarrassed, ashamed, scared himself, walking away as fast as he could without running, not wanting to give them the pleasure of seeing him cry.

Tears dripped as he kept walking, feeling like he was watching from so, terribly far away.

He didn’t stop until there was no one around, and he had no idea where he was on the base. And he just sat down in the corner, wanting to hide until he was normal, until Harold Winston or better times interrupted him. Until Lacroix put him out of his misery, a bullet in his head for being a traitor and hurting the only people who would help him and actually care about the man underneath.

“Siebren?” Moira’s confused, worried voice broke his sobs, and he looked up, shocked, and he found her in just as terrible condition as he was. Her injuries had been stitched up, but the edges of her seemed to fade in and out of reality, her red eye glowing and surrounded by 5 other counterparts, teeth and fangs and every bit as monstrous as Gabriel’s worst moments.

But it was a lifeline in the dark, and he needed it desperately.

“Moira,” He swallowed, quiet, rubbing his eyes as she walked over to him quickly, limping slightly.

She knelt down and wrapped him in a tight hug, and he leaned into his weakness, and hugged her back, breathing in her easy familiarity. Her hand was in his hair, which had started growing back, and she rubbed those soothing circles into his back.

“What did they _do_?” She asked, voice icy and warring with how she pacified him with every single part of her body. Her rage wasn’t directed at him, it was on his behalf.

He didn’t even have words, nothing in his mouth that made sense, nothing he could say, and Moira just held him for the moment, hushing him and wiping away his tears with her good hand, letting him find his words again.

“H, how are you…” He asked, and Moira filled in the story when he no longer had words for her.

“I had to bide my time, Siebren. My powers mean that they cannot hold me hostage, and so I escaped after enough time has lapsed that they stopped constantly watching.” She frowned. “I was on my way to Angela’s office, I needed to retrieve my things for Gabriel.” She rolled her wrist as she talked, shaking her head. “He needs his injection, honestly, I do as well. I didn’t expect them to treat you like this.”

A fresh round of tears started, and Moira hushed him softly, alone in that corner with him, before standing up. “Come with me, it’s alright. I won’t leave you, Siebren.”

He took her hand to follow her lead, and she wrapped an arm around his middle to offer her support, the woman more than willing to be his pillar for the moment, the man teetering dangerously on the edge of his thinning connection to reality.

Moira was kind enough to fill in the void with her own words. “Of course, they’ve yet to actually question me. Occasionally they’ll come in and tell me how terrible Reyes and I are, but after Baptiste stitched me up there’s been little interaction at all. Reyes hasn’t woken up.” She grimaced, shifting her hold on him as she opened a door. “They obviously don’t know how to respond to that, and they weren’t asking me what was wrong. I told them the solution was in my bag, but they obviously didn’t believe that.” She scoffed. “So our angel of Mercy has tried to figure out what was wrong, but they don’t trust that Reyes is actually unconscious, and it’s all a trick to get them to come close so that we can kill them.”

She softened, squeezing him reassuringly. “Has that been how they’ve been treating you too?”

He nodded, unable to say anything at all, as Moira scoffed. “Of course they have. The _one_ good person in Talon and they manage to completely reverse so much of the progress you made on a stable mental state. They truly are a bunch of pillocks. Arseholes, really.” She cursed even to emphasize her rage, and Siebren said nothing as she made a triumphant noise upon spotting her and Reyes’ belongings. Quickly, she sifted through them, and pulled out needles and their contents from her storage compartment, grimacing as she noticed how many were destroyed. “Fantastic. At least we have something to work with.” She grumbled, handing them to Siebren to hold, and she adjusted her grip on him again.

“Well, you know what? Ana can stuff her morals elsewhere. _I_ did my part. _I_ reached out, _I_ did my due diligence- I put you into their hands with the assumption that they, you know, would know what to do with you from there. And what has it done? I’d say worse than nothing. You look awful and Reyes’ condition has started to actually _deteriorate_.” She harrumphed. “If this was the end result then by god I could have kept you in Talon and you know what? You’d at least be happy right now, even if it was just an illusion.”

Siebren hugged her quietly, and Moira slunk back all the way down back to their cells, where he found Reyes in the same heap he’d been in a week before.

“God.” She hissed, still seething. “I take it _all_ back. I’m done playing nice. If they want to play it like this they can feel my full wrath-and I _have_ wrath within me! They’ve _always_ treated me like this, like some diseased limb, even when I was doing my absolute best, even _before_ I knew what Talon even was. Angela Ziegler better be praying to _a_ god that I do not get my hands on her before we’re free.”

“I’ve…I’ve not seen her,” He said, the words faint, and it was like Moira’s body froze, before she turned to him, her eyes wide, her teeth elongated and frightening, a true monster, but one that was protective of him.

“She’s not even _seen_ you?” She said, hissing as she gave herself a shot, willing her body to come back to itself fully, her extra eyes fading back into her pale skin. “I’m _going_ to kill her. I’m going to _kill_ her. You didn’t have _any_ control and she’s decided to treat you like you’re dangerous. I sent them so many files detailing not just my care, but Vialli’s care and how your government treated you! And yet they’re ostracizing you.”

“I am dangerous,” He mumbled, and Moira put her face in her hands, making a disgusted noise.

“Only because Talon _made_ you.” She defended him emphatically, her hands moving up and down repeatedly, rolling her head back before she looked at him fully, expression firm. “ _You_ are innocent, _you_ are kind. You had no idea what you were doing the entire time. You are truly a good person and they reduce you to _this_?” She opened the cell with a flick of her wrist. “How _dare_ they hurt you. They can do whatever they want to me, and god only knows that when we agreed that Talon was our only way forward, Gabriel felt the same, but to attack you, who had never made the choice?”

Gently, she lowered Siebren onto the ground, taking her materials from his lap, the man still trembling on the floor.

She stomped over to Reyes, and without the gentleness or softness she’d afforded Siebren, she injected him thrice over, and sat back, arms crossed, her expression stormy.

“I, I thought that Athena could track us?” He asked, and Moira shook her head, grumbling.

“ _Foolish_ as they are, they put us in the Blackwatch Keep,” Moira explained, slightly smug as she gestured around. “Meaning that we, well, _I_ have a lot more power here than they ever did, as I am the one who helped formulate this place with Reyes. Athena thinks I’m still in the cell, but obviously, I am free to do as I please, as Minerva is the AI who is in control here, and she listens to myself and Reyes, though, I admit I stripped his privileges when he started losing himself in the Reaper.” She paused, looking at him curiously, before she spoke aloud. “Minerva, grant Dr. Siebren De Kuiper administrative access privileges, BW-24046.”

“Welcome, Agent De Kuiper. What will be your administrative access code?”

“SGR-A*.” He said simply, and Moira frowned, but Minerva allowed it.

He took some small pleasure in naming himself after the black hole in the center of the Milky Way.

“Blackwatch Agent code granted: BW-24SGRA*.” She repeated back, adding the additional numbers at the front. He frowned, and Moira hummed.

“BW is for Blackwatch, and the front code is to reference administrative access. Gabriel’s used to be BW-24001. The only other person with access to this place like this is McCree, and he will likely not be here for some time.” Moira said, relaxing into a chair that she’d obviously taken from somewhere else in the keep. “Granted, the sheer thought of me in a cage to gawk at will likely make him materialize out of the ether to do so.” She huffed, before rubbing her temples.

“Once Reyes wakes up, we’ll make a plan, and escape together, reconvene somewhere we might be able to hide.” She made a face. “I’m unsure where, exactly, but I am not leaving you here if they’re treating you like _this_.” She gestured to him, and Siebren nodded quietly, so glad to have someone who cared about his well being making these decisions for him.

She nudged Gabriel with her foot, the gesture shockingly harsh, and he realized then that her uniform was gone, and she was as barefoot as Siebren himself was. “Reyes. Get _up_.” She hissed. “Now is not the time for a _nap_.”

Reyes groaned, and opened up a reddish brown eye. “Moira,” He groaned again, this time more distinctly in the sound of her name, “5 more minutes.”

“5 more minutes- I, _Reyes_ , we have to get _going_.” She folded her arms with the strained words, pacing back and forth.

“Fuck.” He said, groaning as he sat up after a moment where he didn’t move at all, before he rolled over, a hand over his eyes.

“Eloquent as always,” She said dryly, as he looked at her sleepily, before opening his eyes wide in shock, and jumped backwards.

“Moira, _shit_ , what the fuck happened to you?!” He asked, immediately concerned, and Moira raised an eyebrow as his hands went to her stitched up thigh, arm and stomach.

“You did, Gabriel.” She said, quiet. “You were quite unhappy with me.”

He tried to stand, and fell almost immediately, Moira standing to catch him from falling face first, the man gripping his head as he collapsed against Moira’s legs, and Moira’s expression shifted from pissed, to concerned, to a more cold fear. “ _Fuck_ , what hit me?” He asked, rubbing his head, looking around them, seeming to focus on Siebren confusedly.

“Reinhardt.” She answered, her voice clipped, as Siebren slowly realized that Reyes didn’t look at him at all like he _knew_ him, that same way he had at Talon’s party.

“Reinha- Why would _Rein_ have hit me?” Gabriel asked, baffled, holding his head as he felt the bump on his head, obviously confused, and Moira closed her eyes, breathed in, and slid on the floor besides Siebren. “Who’s this guy?”

“Gabriel,” She said, her voice oddly calm considering her strange behavior. “Tell me, what’s the last thing you remember?”

“Fuck, uhm.” He scratched his head, picking up on the oddness of this if the way he started to sweat said anything about it. “Well, we were in Zurich. Null sector had been dealt with, and Jesse was more than a bit banged up in the aftermath, but Angela had him.”

“So, as far as you can recall,” She said, slowly, eyes wide, hand up against her mouth, on the verge of biting her nails. “You and I are still part of Blackwatch, yes?”

“That doesn’t sound good, Moira, but yeah. We’re still Blackwatch.” He looked around as he nodded, confusion only growing. “Fuck, Moira, am we in the fucking Blackwatch Keep? In _Gibraltar_?”

She put her head into her hands. “Yes, this is Gibraltar’s keep.” She murmured. “You, you remember that we work for Talon too, right?” She asked, voice strained, and he nodded, making a face.

“I know, but I’m not happy about it.” He said, before he swallowed. “Moira, what’s going on? You’re acting cagey, more so than usual.”

“You’ve experienced memory loss before,” She murmured, shaking her head. “But never to _this_ extent.”

“Memory loss?” He asked, eyes wide, his panic slowly growing as he looked to Siebren in confusion. “Moira. What’s going on? Why would _Reinhardt_ have hit me? Why am I in a cell in the Blackwatch Keep? Where’s Jack, or fuck, where’s _Jesse_?”

“You’re… you’re missing almost 8 years of your life, Gabriel.” Moira whispered, looking at him with increasing horror. “You’re in here because they _know_ , Gabriel. They know you’re the Reaper. They know _we_ work for Talon, but…” She shifted, unsure of what to say, as Gabriel’s own expression matched hers.

“Moira, where’s Jack?” He asked, weak. “This isn’t funny, Moira, why are you, this isn’t funny at all.” He shook, and he slid back down to the floor, mirroring Moira’s position, putting his palms to his temples with his fingers in his hair, gasping in horror as he felt the length of it, the way it passed down his shoulders, the ends smoke and black ink, and he _screamed_.

Moira shut her eyes, and laughed, lowly, shaking her head.

“That’s… this is just… _grand_.” She murmured, shuddering as she held herself. “Jack Morrison is out there, not here but somewhere in the world, but should he find you, Gabriel, he is _not_ your friend, and he will kill you at the first opportunity.” She explained, lowly. “I don’t know how long you will be stuck back there, but there are so many things you don’t know that this new Overwatch will be ready to try you for and Talon will kill to get their weapon back for.” She murmured, soft, and Gabriel looked at her, well and truly lost.

“New, _new_ Overwatch?” He asked, almost hysterical, and Moira nodded.

“Zurich was destroyed more than 6 years ago, our Overwatch was disbanded more than 5 years ago.” She explained, seeming detached from herself, responding to Reyes’ panic with her own cold reflection of it. “The rookie and the monkey put it back together to fight Talon, which we joined full time after Zurich and your wrongly assumed death.”

She shivered, and Siebren offered her a hug, the woman leaning into it, before Reyes shuffled over and sat next to her as well, the man just shy of crying himself.

“I…know, Reyes.” She murmured, softly. “I don’t even know what to _say_ to you. You’ve _never_ been so far away that you couldn’t recall Zurich.”

“Is it that I’m far away, or is it just…I don’t fucking _know_.” He rubbed his head, seeming frustrated. “I just _feel_ like my body’s been asleep for a long time. My whole head feels like it’s full of pins and needles. Our connection, too, it’s there but it feels like a live wire frayed in a thunderstorm instead of the small link we used to have.”

She looked at him owlishly. “That’s how it felt to me after Zurich…but… the way you’re acting…” Moira rubbed her cheeks as she pulled Gabriel against her. “If I’d have known the way to make you regain your senses was to hit you upside the head I would have had Siebren here do it _ages_ ago.” She deadpanned, shaking her head, as she tightened her hold on him.

“What now, Moira?” Reyes asked, and Moira shook her head, holding both Siebren and Gabriel tighter.

“I don’t know, I don’t _know_ what to do, Gabriel.” She admitted, finally admitted, and they returned to stunned silence at the news, unable to cope, unable to understand. It was like a dam had broke and Moira was left drowning on the other side of it, crushed beneath the wave of this news. 

He must have fallen asleep there, because eventually, Moira gently prodded him, looking to him earnestly. “Siebren,” She said, quiet. “I…I think that we need to stay.” She bit her lip, and Siebren felt his stomach drop at the idea, having already grown so attached to the idea of leaving all this behind and not looking back. “Gabriel has _never_ lost this much time. I don’t think it’s… coincidental, either.” She admitted, careful. “The Uprising was the last time I can think of where Gabriel was really in control of himself, and more…I think it’s the last time he was thinking about Talon in _purely_ negative terms. But you can’t be found here.” She squeezed him tightly. “It’s alright. I have him, and there’s nowhere safer for me than the Blackwatch Keep, at least until McCree shows up. I’ll make contact with you soon.”

He didn’t want to leave, and it must have been obvious on his face. Moira hugged him, truly hugged him, and she didn’t let go for a long moment. “It will be alright. They might not trust you, but they shouldn’t try to hurt you.”

He shifted, thinking all too hard of their response to him startling the young woman, before he rubbed his eyes and nodded.

“Go get some food, I can hear your stomach rumbling.” She ordered, firm. “It’s late. There shouldn’t be many people around.”

Moira ushered him back out into the world, and he was already left cold once the door to the supposed Blackwatch Keep was shut behind him.

He supposed he _was_ hungry, having been on his way to get some food when he’d been interrupted. He’d just forgotten his hunger, and low and behold, being reminded of it, made him feel the grumbles himself.

Siebren slowly traced his way back to the kitchen from the Blackwatch Keep, finding his bedroom first, and then the kitchen area.

He hoped, and prayed he was alone, but was sorely disappointed when he spotted Reinhardt sitting at the counter, across from the small woman he’d frightened so badly.

His stomach ached slightly, from having no food for an unknown stretch of time, but Siebren just froze in the doorframe, staring absently at the obstacles between him and food.

“I mean…I feel so bad about it.” She said, hands gripped tight around a mug. “It just surprised me, but everyone treated it like he was about to kill me.”

“His powers are very frightening, Mei, you didn’t read the report because you didn’t like some of the language in it.” Reinhardt allowed, gentle. “But his personality is quite mild. Unfortunately, he’s very quiet, defends Moira O’Deorain, and he keeps to himself. So people aren’t sure how to take him."

They…were talking about him? He took a step backwards, as though to leave, and realized that he had drawn their attention. He closed his eyes, and breathed, and prepared to be questioned or gawked at.

“Dr. De Kuiper, I’m so sorry about earlier.” The woman said, seeming mortified. “I just didn’t expect you to be right there, I hadn’t heard you at all.”

Siebren froze at the words addressing him, feeling all too much like a wooden puppet on strings. “Oh, is Siebren back?” Baptiste said from around the corner, breathing a sigh of relief as he rounded the corner. “I’ve been _looking_ for you.” He said, poking a finger at him, his demeanor friendly enough. “I know I’m not officially minding you, but come on, after earlier I got worried when I couldn’t find you.”

He had? Siebren couldn’t really find words, not being sure how to dip out of the room, and his stomach betrayed him with a very loud growl.

He dipped his head, and turned midair to escape, when Baptiste took his hand, and Reinhardt grabbed the other hand. “No,” Baptiste said firmly. “Siebren, you’re not going anywhere before you sit down and eat something.”

“It’s alright, Siebren, you’re around friends.” Reinhardt tried to soothe, and he was forced to let them bring him to the table, and sit him down. “Eat something before you sneak off again, at least.”

He didn't have responses for either of those statements, as they were both suspicious or at least to some degree untrustworthy.

Baptiste still sat him down and placed a box of takeout food in front of him, smiling awkwardly. “It was Genji’s night to sort out dinner, so of course, he ordered takeout.” He said, quiet, “I just ordered what I thought you’d like.”

Siebren glanced nervously around, before he caved his shoulders in. “S, suppose I have no choice,” He stuttered, all of them obviously waiting for a response. “I’m sorry for frightening you.” He apologized to the woman, her expression still upset about something.

“They were about to attack you.” She shook her head. “I’m so sorry, I’m easily startled from behind.”

He shrugged, thinking about the reports that even he had yet to see that they were basing this all off on.

“I’m dangerous.” He murmured, poking at the takeout.

“Everyone here with only a few exceptions has either killed someone or very badly beat them.” Baptiste said coolly, and Reinhardt nodded after a second.

“ _Everyone_ here is dangerous, Siebren.” Reinhardt said, getting to the point. “People are treating you how they want to be treating Moira and Reyes, and I think that’s the crux of the problem, and it’s not fair, and I’m sorry.”

“For what it’s worth, Dr. De Kuiper, most of them don’t even know the amount of amazing work before your death that they owe so much to!” The young woman said, giving him a small smile. “I know what it’s like, to be coming back to the world after so long spent away… I lost 9 years in cryostasis, and I feel so out of my depth in this new world, it was strange hearing about you! I wanted to introduce myself earlier.” She held out her hand to shake.

“Mei Ling Zhou. I am a climatologist. I’ll admit that a lot of your papers were a little out of my depth, especially the ones that focused on the astronomy part of astrophysics, but they were fascinating.” She said, trying to be cheerful.

The name struck him as familiar. “Wait, I, I know you.” He said, snapping his fingers as he came back to himself. “Part of the Ecopoint group, I remember reading your team’s reports on climate change.” He said, brightening as he finally, finally had someone who knew him and who he recalled. “We teamed up with your team frequently to get data from the I.S.S and Horizon back to you lot, Harold and I usually wound up writing the reports because it let us sneak off together. Whatever did happen to that little group? Are they here with you?”

Mei’s face drooped, and the mood in the room fell.

“They…they died.” Mei said, folding her hands over, and Siebren lost his tongue again. “I’m the only one left.”

“I…I understand. I’m so sorry for your loss.” He said, softly. “I never thought I was saying goodbye.”

“But…I was.” She agreed, rubbing at her eyes, her glasses being readjusted afterwards. “And, I can’t go back. It’s so hard to even think about it without getting…so sad. My friends tried so hard to make the world a better place, but…the world moved on without us.”

Siebren felt empathy rush through him. “And it can be so hard finding your place in the world again.” He agreed, murmuring. “All alone.”

“It can! But I had Winston and Tracer, and I met so many people on my adventures. And I had Snowball, of course!” She said, petting the robot that made a disapproving hum at her words, before nuzzling into her.

“I had…Moira.” Siebren said, softly. “She was just…there, and she was nice. She talked to me, and gave me back a lab, gave me back a purpose. She always told me the truth. Even when it was ugly.” He sighed, quieting again. “Later I suppose I had Sombra, and then with time Lacroix. Reyes was hard for me to know.” He murmured, quiet. “In the times he treated me the best, it was like he wasn’t who he usually was. Like he didn’t know where he was.”

Reinhardt seemed to latch onto that, brow furrowing in curiosity. “What do you mean, Siebren?” He asked, as Mei and Baptiste went quiet, wondering what exactly he’d meant.

“I mean, I told you that I really only could think of one mission with Reyes and Sombra…but afterwards, we had to go to this…party. Moira seemed stressed out about bringing me, but she got me dressed in a suit all the same. Told me to mind my manners. That's where I remember meeting what higher ups I can recall.” He elaborated, voice shaky. “After pleasantries, Moira found Reyes, and she gave him a shot after Reyes commented about something Ogundimu said. About this one coming with manners.” He licked his lips, fingers shaking. “And he laughed, at something Moira said about Lacroix. Some sarcastic comment about how her attitude didn’t matter. Then he asked her to report and she went over...well, I wasn’t paying attention, but it seemed like it was just completely natural for them.”

He looked between them, hoping this was making sense, before he continued. “And then he asked how long he’d been away, and talked about how he was very present, for the first time in a while, longer than they’d had me. I don’t know how long they had me was supposed to mean in terms of time. And he apparently had forgotten Ana had survived, because Moira mentioned Amari and Morrison and he seemed quite distressed.”

“What happened next?” Reinhardt urged, after a long pause, and Siebren’s hands quivered as Reinhardt started to look very serious, Baptiste seeming unsure of how to help, standing there next to Mei, listening to the story.

“He- he asked Moira if she knew who was doing it. He didn’t say what it was, but Moira talked about the culprit being Vialli, but Ogundimu killed him, so she wasn’t certain. She mentioned that it was dangerous to be…falling back like that. And asked what he would have done if he’d been in front of Ogundimu or Korpal.”

“And what did he say?” Reinhardt pressed, and Siebren shook his head.

“They didn’t say anything else. They started talking to each other in their minds.” He murmured, hands wringing the edge of his shirt. “Or, or, I think that…I think that even if they said something, I might not have heard it.” He gently touched the scab on his forehead. “They, they had something in here, that Brigitte hit and broke, and I think that…when you hit me, it dislodged fully. But I would be talking to someone and I’d hear nothing. Or I’d be nowhere, s, s, surrounded by _stars_ , and then I’d be back in my lab or in bed or in Oasis.” He shivered, thinking back to being Sigma. “I think either…they were there during my imprisonment, or, or Vialli, when he had me…” He trailed off, his stutter getting worse, withdrawing as he dropped his fork, shuddering at the memories of Vialli, of being _owned_ , of being a weapon.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Baptiste stepped in, putting a hand in front of Siebren. “We all would like to know more. But…not like this.” He gestured, helplessly. “He’s going to keep answering you, he doesn’t seem to have much of a filter, Reinhardt, let the man breathe.”

Reinhardt did, in fact, pull back, his expression wrecked. “I’m…sorry, Siebren.” He murmured, something that made Siebren look up, confused. “Gabriel and I were close, a long time ago. Seeing him like this…hearing of Ana, and presumably Jack’s life…it pains me, to think they are out there alone, unprotected, and that they left me behind.”

Siebren heard that phrase, and it struck him hard in the chest. He didn’t know Gabriel past the façade of Reaper and even then not really, and he didn’t know Ana well, and Jack not at all.

But he knew the pain of being alone, wondering how your loved ones were doing without you. The pain of wondering why you were left there, left behind, paired with the worry of if they were okay or not. 

The knowledge sat heavy in his chest, that Reyes had fallen back so far that he hadn’t even known Reinhardt was against him now. That the man who was being mourned was within reach.

Reyes was back to some former state and Moira was lost for answers, in the Blackwatch Keep.

He picked up his fork with unsteady fingers, as Mei nodded with Reinhardt, able to sympathize easily. “I didn’t know them, I was just a scientist, but…the fact that the world is so different now…” She agreed, quiet. “Oh, Reinhardt, we should invite Siebren to movie nights.” She said, smiling as she tried to pull things back to a normal conversation, as Siebren eyed her uncertainly. “Echo and I both have been…well, you know, gone for a long time. And you have as well. Reinhardt and Brigitte wind up watching movies or sometimes TV shows that we missed while we were asleep.” Mei explained, cheerfully enough.

“Though, the movies are usually preeeetty terrible,” Lúcio teased as he skated into the kitchen, grinning. “Baptiste, you need to tell a man when you locate your missing person. I’ve been looking for him for a while. I was about to ask if we’d checked downstairs.”

“He wouldn’t have been able to get downstairs.” An unknown voice came from behind them, and they all startled, looking backwards to see the cyborg Siebren didn’t know.

“Genji, fuck.” Lúcio said, catching his breath and shaking his head. “Let a guy know when you’re about to show up.”

“I really wonder sometimes how McCree would deal with all of you.” He murmured, before shaking his head. “Regardless, downstairs is the Blackwatch keep. Dr. De Kuiper shouldn’t be able to get into it without administrative access.” He reasoned. “The last person who should have actual administrative access, given that systems show Reyes' access was revoked, is McCree, but unfortunately, he’s neglected to show up to the party.”

“Are we dragging Jesse? Please don’t start without me,” A robotic voice joined in, teasing, giving a small smile to Dr. De Kuiper. “I see no one’s been able to sleep. Are we going to have a movie night?"

“It looks like it.” Lúcio said, gesturing to the living space that was across from the dining area, before walking over to it, grabbing a blanket to wrap around himself. "Let's go set up.

"I can text Fareeha to come and join us.” Echo intoned, stretching her robotic limbs with a smile. 

“She’s out.” Brigitte hummed as she walked in from another door, stretching, dressed clearly in PJs. “I was coming to help Lúcio see about finding Dr. De Kuiper. We had a sleepover, just talking about…Overwatch Brat stuff.” She waved a hand as Mei seemed a little out of place, but she just smiled awkwardly as she stood up to join them, putting back on her slippers, that Echo cooed over, tiny little fluffy yetis on her feet.

“I’m picking the movie. Brigitte’s had her taste license revoked.” Lúcio said loudly, from the other room.

“Hey!” Brigitte said, chasing after him to defend herself. “Superhero movies are _GOOD_.”

“Genji keeps telling you, but McCree would have a 20th century western on in a heartbeat, watching superhero movies from the 2020s and 2030s doesn’t even hold a candle to his taste.” The omnic said, floating besides Genji, her notes light, airy, and very much like his own that always followed him around.

“Or something like Van Helsing; Reloaded, Echo, don’t forget.” Genji commented, following Lúcio quickly. Mei laughed, her face a little flush as she stood.

“Are you coming, Siebren?” Reinhardt offered, and it removed the barrier that was growing between himself and the scene he was witnessing, as the larger man stood up to join the crowd, calling the couch, to the groans of everyone in the room.

“Ah…well,” He said, looking down at his food. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to; it was that he wasn’t sure if he should. Baptiste put a hand on his shoulder, and ended that train of thought quickly.

“Come.” He firmly said. “It’s alright. It’s a peace offering. Sombra did small things with you, right? This is their way of trying to integrate you, same as Sombra bringing sweets from her favorite bakeries at her mission drops.” Baptiste put a hand on his, and squeezed it. “And unlike my former associates at Talon, they won’t yell at you for eating on the couch.”

“I never experienced that.” Siebren disagreed, standing slowly, thinking back to all those times he and Sombra did something relatively stupid together, but on the whole he was allowed to exist freely. “Granted, I imagine being able to control gravity gives one a free pass on taking lunch on the couch.” He mused, granting Baptiste a small smile, and the younger man shook his head, amused.

“I guess it does. Dr. O’Deorain’s assistants always scared me when I visited with a former colleague of my own, so I supposed I envisioned her as just as scary, even to those with enhancements.”

“She can be, in her own way. But everything is measured with her, even her outrage.” Siebren agreed, packing up his food to go into the den. “Granted, it’s more out of worry than anything else. I don’t think Moira has much in her to be mad on her own behalf. She’ll get mad for me, or for Reyes, sometimes even Lacroix. But not herself.” He quietly observed. “And the heavens know Sombra doesn’t need it.”

That actually made Baptiste laugh. “No, Sombra certainly does not.” He agreed, shaking his head, the two of them going into the room together to join the party.

The kids squabbled over the movie choice, but Mei ended up casually putting on a suggestion from Genji that made them all go quiet, as Siebren took up a spot on an arm chair with them. Originally, things had been pretty calm, only mild commentary in the form of Lúcio and Brigitte debating the choices made by the film industry in the 2030s that made the superhero movie unpalatable in the post-Omnic Crisis world.

He’d not really been paying attention to the movie, as he frankly was more interested in just…taking in a breath, and relaxing. Eating, as well, because the take out was good, and he _was_ hungry. It was the first time since being here that he wasn’t on trial, no one was expecting something from him. No one even seemed to care that he was there, to worry about his unspoken condition and how it might be used against them.

Mei yelped as she accidentally spilled her drink as Echo’s wing lifted with some laughter, and thoughtlessly Siebren reached out a hand, and froze its momentum, freezing it midair. He righted the glass with a twist from his wrist, and motioned with his fingers the liquid pouring back into the cup, before he moved it back to Mei’s awe-filled face.

“Holy shit.” Brigitte said eloquently, and broke the silence as everyone broke out laughing, Lúcio shaking his shoulders excitedly.

“What the hell? That's _sick_!” He said, as Siebren flushed, covering his face as he let it fall out of his gravity field. “I had no idea you could be that precise with it.”

“I mean- I’ve been practicing.” He agreed, quiet. “But, I figured, if I could unintentionally do things like that in reverse, I should be able to fix it, right?” He mumbled, looking away from the praise. “And, well, Sombra often tested my reflexes, so I got good at catching liquids before they hit my equipment.”

“To clarify, this means you have full access to your abilities, and you’ve elected not to use them?” Echo asked, picking up on something, and Siebren nodded dumbly.

“I mean, my powers are just…a part of me, even when I’ve not been in fully control of myself, they often do what they want. Moira often had to tell me that they were playing tricks on me, and I should look behind my head for whatever parts I was missing. What would have been the point of using them outside of, well, floating?” He asked, settling down into his chair quietly. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, I never really have.” He explained, as Lúcio turned back on the movie, and things settled back down.

The only thing that went on the rest of the night aside from a movie viewing, was Siebren putting away his trash once he was finished eating, and settling back down on the couch, and Genji throwing popcorn at the two younger members for talking during the climax of the movie, but he really wasn’t paying attention to the movie, just to the air of calm that descended on them as time moved on with him, and he was allowed to exist there. He closed his eyes, and allowed _himself_ to exist there with them.

He was woken by hands on him, larger than Moira’s ever had been, and he is too comfortable to really move, but he hears Reinhardt talking to someone that he’d bring Siebren back to bed.

It said something that Reinhardt was able to pick him up in one go, Moira always had to finagle her spindly arms to support him or relied solely on his ability to float, and Sombra was always so small against him, capable but frail and hardly coming up to his waist when he was standing, let alone when he was floating.

Reinhardt could just hold him, and it was a strange thing, to feel small. He was used to those around him making him feel large, empowered, the big guy in the middle.

There was an air of delicacy when Reinhardt held him, something that made him feel like, for the first time, he wasn’t just here to be the big guy in the middle, nor was he just here to give answers for others actions. The care in the gesture to bring him to bed instead of leaving him on the couch, let alone the way he cared to support his head rather than letting him dangle.

The expression of tenderness reminded him all too much of Harold, the way he’d come up behind him in his office on the moon and gently lay a hand on his shoulder, and rub the skin of his neck tenderly, putting a blanket on him or telling the sleepy man it was time to go to bed, sometimes salaciously, and sometimes just _warm_ , caring.

This place wasn’t Oasis, but it was also no desert mirage. It was full of people who- like him- had struggled, and had to fight, and had to be things that they weren’t because they loved, because they had something to protect.

These people weren’t his strike team, but they might be something new, something he could protect as well, and be protected by in turn. And in spite of any embarrassment, he gave into that weakness, and let himself fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl this chapter was a lot darker my first go through and i got to 9k the first time and said, 'this suuuucks,' deleted like 6k and then rewrote it. I took some bits and bobs from the original bit that I liked, and I tried to be sure to comb over for tone errors but I mightta missed one or two. 
> 
> on the other hand (eyes emoji) reinhardt.... thats awfully tender of you,,


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've extended this fic to 10 chaps bc my sinful hands won't free me. I shoulda known the metric i go for is 10 chaps. That deleted scenes folder is getting longer and longer, so its not that im not trying to pair things down. I'll only include this 1 bc I put it on twitter bc it was too funny not to have someone else laugh at. 
> 
> "And what was I to do, exactly, Gabriel? Tell Maximilien, oh please don’t shoot McCree, that’s Reyes’ emotional support cowboy!”

His door was open from the night before, he noticed as he crawled out of bed, rubbing his eyes. There was a clock on the bedside table now, one with a cat holding up the face, and he gawked at realizing how late he’d slept in, pulling himself upright with a groan.

It was past noon. He really was getting old, he groused mentally, and rubbed his head, before he paused, and rubbed it again.

Peach fuzz. His hair was growing back.

It made him give pause and go to the bathroom in the room, looking at himself in the mirror. He was skinny, floating there, but he had obviously gained some muscle in his time in Talon. The bandage on the side of his head had come off, leaving a scab and the surrounding pink skin on one side of his face rather obvious, as well as the bruising from the hammer. He winced as he pressed down into it, recalling those last frantic moments of horror before nothingness.

But there was his hair. Growing back.

He laughed, lowly, tears dripping as he rubbed over his head again, licking his lips.

He, he was actually free now, wasn’t he?

Siebren barely recalled it, the memories traumatizing and raw but starting to be cocooned in such a way they wouldn’t continue to hurt him, but he knew that during his imprisonment, he’d gotten his head shaved, and he was not allowed any kind of freedom, no recognition as a human being. No clothes of his own, no hair to style. He wasn’t even allowed to shower why would they bother with hair?

Sombra had helped Sigma shave his head, another thing he could barely recall, but he knew it to be true, having caught the woman shaving the sides of her head for her rather dramatic undercut, and Sombra being one of the few Sigma had ever really trusted to a real extent, the same courtesy being granted only to Moira.

It was as if Sigma knew, to some degree that its true nature was still a prisoner, one with a gilded cage, but it kept his hair shaved off, as a reminder.

Sigma had protected him for so long, in being Sigma no one else could touch him, no one else could hurt him any more, but they couldn’t love him either, couldn’t know him. And Moira had slowly coaxed out what remained of Dr. De Kuiper, and Sigma had been initially hesitant, but Moira had proven herself, and thusly Dr. De Kuiper came back out of his mental shell, the sanctuary he’d made himself in that void he’d seen Amélie.

He was free, and Sigma didn’t need to protect him now.

Siebren looked himself in the mirror, and allowed himself a small, yet hopeful smile, and felt there was still a chance for him in this world.

He undressed, and decided for once that he was going to shower, rather than needing to be told. Siebren could do this, it would be alright. One step at a time. It was easy enough, and he felt truly clean, like he was so many steps removed from where he’d been for so long that the memories no longer hung on his skin like grease.

He put on the shirt that he now guessed was Reinhardt’s, and touched the pants, seeing a tag on them, letting out a huff at the sight. ‘He washed them on hot and shrunk them.’ The note read, punctuated with a little frowning face, but Siebren put them on, changing out of the last bit of his uniform and leaving the pants in the cutesy laundry basket that was another new addition, and he walked outside, breathing out the anxiety in his stomach that the other shoe would drop and he would discover himself trapped all over again.

XXXXX

“Doc!” Lúcio waved as Brigitte served up toast. “Good to see you’re up. Fun hanging out with you last night.”

“Even though Genji picked a terrible movie.” Brigitte conspired, and Lúcio shook his head.

“Nah, the movie was fine, you didn’t like losing an argument and you weren’t paying attention.” He commented, fishing through the fridge. “Ughhh, they totally cleared out the basics, but obviously, aren’t going to the store yet.”

Brigitte paused, looking between them. “Oh, Lú, we should probably tell Dr. De Kuiper how this base is currently running. I had to loan him a few objects when Reinhardt and I discovered how little was in his room.” She rubbed her neck.

“You can both call me Siebren. Doctor is much too formal, considering the circumstances.” He murmured, careful, looking through the kitchen, and spotted a box high up on a shelf, floating up to collect it, discovering old mugs inside. He grabbed one, and put it back up top, looking around for a pot of water for tea, spotting an old kettle that would do fine.

“So, Siebren.” Lúcio said after they’d gaped at him a moment. “How exactly are you doing that?” He asked. “Because I know I want to do that and I can already slide on walls."

“Hm. How am I doing that?” He pondered the question, sitting midair, crossing his feet at the ankles. “You know? I’ve not had a chance to study the how of my condition. For a long time, I didn’t notice it.” He admitted, quiet. “And even after I noticed it, I haven’t understood it. It must be from the accident, as that’s the turning point in my life, but,” He paused, the memory frayed there. “After the accident I briefly remember being questioned about what happened, and after that…put away.” He shuddered at the memory.

Brigitte gawked. “They just…locked you up?”

“I wasn’t in the best mental state after the accident, I’ll admit.” Siebren absently recalled. “I was exposed to all that the universe was, I was talking about hearing the melody of the stars, and even though it was so _loud_ , the patterns of the universe were just…revealed to me, and they were so fascinating.” He laughed, lowly. “I, I think I said too, that being in space was no reason for the colony not to follow history.”

“But they couldn’t just do that.” Brigitte denied, seeming angry. “You hadn’t done anything. Sure, maybe a few screws were loose, but you obviously had the capacity to recover.”

Siebren held his mug, his hand still on there. “They thought I was dangerous. I know that- that the gravitic anomalies initially reacted to my emotions. I had no control, and in an unstable emotional state I almost certainly lashed out to these strangers questioning me, and I definitely did when Talon freed me from there. Control came so much later, even Talon handled me with great care.” He shuddered. “But that was why they chose Moira to free me. Even at my worst, my powers cannot touch her. Her intangibility as smoke is beyond me.” His hand tightened around the mug.

“But would you have gotten to that point-at all- if they’d just, you know, treated you like a person?” Brigitte asked, and Siebren wet his lips, shaking his head, feeling that chasm inside him growing, tugging.

“I, I don’t know.” He admitted, quiet, hands shaking, struggling to keep control. “I spent so long as Sigma, as it not I, that I was…that _I_ was gone. Mentally I retreated, unable to, to cope with the situation. I was bound, and trapped, and alone, so alone. I don’t even know how many years between that time when I stopped being Siebren and Moira dragged me back to reality was, and even, even when she did, the pieces are just…so hard to hold onto.” He shook his head hard to clear it.

“But…I don’t like thinking about…about it.” He stuttered, forcing the words out when it was clear that the two younger members were growing concerned. “Thank you for the loaners, by the way.” He said belatedly. “The clock, in particular, is quite cute.”

Brigitte flushed when Lúcio nudged her, a big grin on his face. “So. Base.” Lúcio segued, gesturing around. “Breakfast and lunch are generally grab and growl. Snacks are considered communal, so if you’re particularly attached to something you buy, we recommend keeping them in your room.”

“Reinhardt and Papa both have mini fridges because they’re both convinced the other’s going to steal their ice cream.” Brigitte chuckled. “And dinner is assigned on a semi rotational basis with the exceptions of Echo and Bastion since they don’t eat…ah, we’ve not added your name yet, since we figured that, well…”

“That I didn’t have funds.” Siebren picked up on, and they both sheepishly nodded. “To be honest, I think I actually do have an account somewhere. Moira mentioned at some point that no one in my government actually closed my accounts given that…well, I wasn’t dead, and I had left things to Harold, who actually died…and then he left his things to me, and again, I wasn’t dead… I think she has access to them.”

“Well, regardless of that, cleaning up from dinner is also on a rotational basis, but you clean up your own dishes the rest of the time,” Lúcio continued. “We all do it in pairs, and Sojourn, Efi and Orisa do it together, but Bastion kinda sucks at cleaning and it can’t even eat, so it gets a pass.” He rubbed his neck.

“Right! You’ve not even met everyone. Most everyone was there last night, but Papa, Angela and Sojourn were all discussing plans to go to Zurich.” Brigitte realized. “And Fareeha was in my room asleep.”

“Anyways, we’ve not added you to that list yet, but I’m willing to bet either Baptiste will pair up with you and Fareeha will guilt McCree into joining Overwatch, or we’ll get assigned you as a third, or it’ll be some new combination.” Lúcio hummed. “Not that I’d mind that, I have the sinking suspicion that we can use your powers for extremely fast cleaning.”

The mundaneness of it was actually quite comforting. “Either sounds fine with me.” Siebren agreed, quiet. “Moira never asked that I help. Granted, though, we didn’t have that sort of schedule. Sombra had to remind me a lot to eat, and Moira only ever consistently took tea with me. I have the feeling that, well, Moira wasn’t great about maintaining herself either.” He chuckled, awkward. “However, you lot need groceries, and I can’t keep stealing Reinhardt’s clothes,” He gestured to them with a self-deprecating smile, and Brigitte snickered, shaking her head.

“He realized that you didn’t have any when he brought you to bed last night.” She said dryly. “It was literally a completely empty quarters, fine for most of us, but you only had the clothes on your back.”

“Again, I think Moira might actually have things of mine.” He murmured, quiet. “I’m not positive but…we could ask her.”

Brigitte and Lúcio looked at each other, before shaking their heads. “I can text Angela to check her stuff.” Brigitte volunteered. “She’s got their things- the medical bay is the most secure part of base, I think. I think Tracer and Sojourn are down there today with them, actually.”

“But we do need groceries.” Lúcio hummed, thinking. “Let’s go shopping, no harm in it.”

“Some harm in it.” Brigitte frowned. “Lena will kill us if we just take Siebren out without someone with us.”

“So we bring Reinhardt too.” Lúcio shrugged. “He wanted more of those little sausages from the local butcher right?”

“Actually, not a bad idea.” She hummed, getting a mischievous glint in her eyes, actually getting her phone out.

“But I don’t have money.” Siebren murmured, setting down his mug, guilty at not having actually made or finished tea. “I don’t want to burden you two, I’m sure Moira will know something about my finances.”

Lúcio raised an eyebrow as if questioning that, before he clapped a hand right against his forehead. “Right! Fuck. I forgot.” He shook his head. “Let’s say I’ve got you more than covered.”

“By the way, do you happen to have a cane? Or do you think I can get away with floating.” He asked, sheepish, and Brigitte gawked at him, before snickering.

“A grown adult gorilla regularly goes shopping here now.” She teased, lightly. “And his best friend is a girl who makes no secret in her ability to jump forward in time. I think you’re fine.”

“Best to ask, not assume.” Siebren said, futzing with the edge of his clothing. “I had a wheelchair in Oasis to use. I’m strong enough to walk now, but it can still be difficult over prolonged stretches.”

Brigitte hummed, putting her phone away. “Let’s say not many are going to be looking at you.” She sat on the counter, eating her toast quickly by stuffing it into her mouth, throwing Siebren an apple and grinning at him. “We’ll get food while we’re out, but eat that too. There’s a café that’s sweet on Reinhardt.”

XXXXX

Brigitte hadn’t been kidding about no one paying him any attention at all. At first, the young workers behind the counter at the café had fawned over Reinhardt, but the moment they’d finished up their pastries and headed toward the shopping area supposedly nearby in the city surrounding the base, heads started turning for Lúcio.

People started asking for autographs left and right, holding up posters with the young man’s face on it, and he handled it with a kind of grace only the more dedicated astronauts ever did. “No one ever mentioned to me that Lúcio was famous.” Siebren murmured to Reinhardt, who belted out a laugh next to him.

“It’s because he’s famous even to us! When we had the opportunity to help Brazil, we met up. Quite the fortunate meeting, he’s got the charisma and popularity behind him that I had myself!” Reinhardt puffed up, and Siebren gave a small smile.

“I remember the posters.” He hummed. “That hair really was something, and you weren’t too bad a sight either.” Siebren said, and Brigitte snickered, nudging Reinhardt in the ribs.

“It’s Mister Morrison that I think Lú is really filling the shoes of.” Brigitte said, quietly, and Reinhardt grumbled, though there was obviously some sign of pain there, just beneath the surface, like an old bruise you can’t say hurts because it was touched in jest. “The comparisons have been endless, lately. All bright, a hope for the future.”

“Jack Morrison, right?” Siebren thought back, remembering the man in the blue coat, the one who would be commemorated with statues long after the fact. “He was _alright_ , I suppose, but he wasn’t really my type. He looked too much like a Ken doll.”

Reinhardt started laughing at that, and the smile looked better, then, and Siebren lifted a little bit higher off the floor. “Oh, Jack just hated that too!” He snickered, shaking his head. “Gabriel and I would tell him all the time. McCree upped the game, though, when he bought one of those water-growing boyfriends that looked uncannily like him, but it was made before the crisis!”

“What, did Dr. Lindholm create the man himself?” Siebren picked up the connection easily, and Reinhardt laughed again, joyous.

“We told Brigitte that they should grow Jack his brother back and bring it to her, bless her.” Reinhardt continued, shaking his head as Brigitte went bright red. “Fareeha managed to stop her right before the reveal to him but Jesse was laughing so hard Jack caught onto the game anyways.”

“Reinhardt…” Brigitte groaned as Lúcio finally stepped away from the fans. “ _Oh_ my god, I totally forgot I did such an embarrassing thing, let alone to the strike commander of Overwatch.” She said, shaking her head, as Lúcio patted her on the back, chuckling.

“Jack took it well.” Reinhardt disagreed. “Coming from you, since you were only 6. And Fareeha naturally talked it over for you. He and McCree never got along too well, so Gabriel gave Jesse on some kind of silly punishment for it. The rest of us had a good laugh over it. Mina and Torbjörn had a running joke with him about it for years.”

The smile faded again, as he sighed, long and heavy. “But just thinking about it makes me feel old!”

“That the ones you used to put up to pranks are now getting to how old you were when you were pulling pranks?” Siebren asked, nodding as he thought that over. “Certainly, but it also means getting off easier when you’re the one pulling the prank again.” He hummed, using a careful finger to manipulate Reinhardt’s hair to come popping out of its hair tie, changing the tension in the rubber with a precision only used to manipulate his instruments back in his lab, the man standing straight up in surprise as he felt his man bun come down.

“I keep forgetting how cool that is.” Brigitte grumbled as they walked past and they went on through the tight streets that finally led to a shopping area, Reinhardt putting his hair back up with a tie from his wrist, the man giving a good show that Siebren finally took the time to appreciate, his back muscles working as he carefully made sure there wasn’t any loose hairs or bumps in the remade bun.

The secret to his and Harold’s relationship was that it had been a friendship that sometimes had romantic and sexual moments. They had ogled men, usually the ones back down on earth since the others on the Horizon were mostly boorishly straight, and the ones who were interested either found Siebren irritating or overly eccentric or both, and Harold too “fatherly,” of a person, and Siebren could recall, the type of dad figure only people with daddy issues went for. It had gotten to the point that the two of them had joked about getting married, if only for the tax benefits as they were both far past their prime.

In other words, it’d been a convenience- some attraction, but not the deep kind that made the blood boil and the heart stir; someone to care for, someone to be cared by, and nothing more.

That didn’t mean he didn’t love Harold, he did, and he does, and his absence could be felt keenly through him, like missing a watch you wore your whole life, the skin a slightly different color when its gone, tender to the breeze.

But neither was it the wistful longing touch of the lotuses in Moira’s secret garden as she gazed up at the moon and remembered, and spoke of an absence in her that ached throughout her entirety. And it _hadn’t_ been that at all for _Siebren_ , and he’d never know if his best friend had wanted more from him, if Siebren kept him away from better things. His friend, and lover was gone- dead.

“Hey doc,” Lúcio nudged him.

“This is Houston, can you read me Siebren?” Brigitte said, from the other side of him, and Siebren shook his head.

“I was just…thinking.” He murmured, wrapping his head around the small paper cup from the café, realizing belatedly he’d been staring right at Reinhardt, the man’s ears a little red, before they dispersed into the store, Siebren awkwardly looking through clothes, feeling his shoulders as though trying to recall his size, before remembering he was both bigger and smaller than he’d once been.

Reinhardt came back with a mound of shirts. “I think I have a fairly good grasp on your size, considering you’ve been wearing my clothes, but still. It is quite nice to not be Brigitte’s fashion victim!” Reinhardt grinned from ear to ear.

Both Brigitte and Lúcio looked at each other, and then shook their heads.

“Rein, you love showing off.” Lúcio pointed out, setting a few sweaters into the chair. “Siebren, try stuff on, you don’t have to try on everything, just the things that speak to you.” He gave the man a thumbs-up, and Siebren flushed, corralled into the changing room by the three of them.

There was an uncomfortable amount of time, where he’d try on a shirt, a sweater, a pair of slacks, and they’d ask he show them what was up. Some were too old for him, or too young, but after about an hour he was more than done. He had to admit, Talon’s regime left him with a subtle musculature he’d never had before, and it wasn’t an unseemly figure. It just…didn’t match the memory. He remembered a bit more of him around the middle, not much, but a little bit of a belly, where he’d simply not worked out all that much. He’d been leaner in the shoulders, but wider in the legs.

That would be the atrophy, though.

“I can’t help but feel this is a little unnecessary,” He said, stepping out of the room, rubbing his neck awkwardly, feeling at the black sweater Lúcio had stuck him in. “I don’t need much.”

“Uh, Siebren, I’ve been in your room. You don't own any clothes.” Brigitte denied. “You don’t have to show us everything, but c’mon. It’s not like you look bad.”

Siebren frowned as he rubbed down the fabric. “No, I just look…different. To how I remember. There’s more of me in places there wasn’t, and less of me in others.”

“It’s a good look.” Reinhardt said approvingly, sitting in a chair, looking a lot like an adult sitting at a children’s tea party. “It suits you well.”

“Oh, you think.” He stood up a little straighter, as Reinhardt gave him a thumbs-up. “Harold always told me he liked me in brighter colors, but I’ve always enjoyed black and grey.”

“Black is a universally flattering color.” Reinhardt agreed. “And neutrals are good staples. Try on something brighter though, I’m sure Brigitte grabbed something.”

“A lot of it was too young for me.” He flushed, a bit embarrassed. “I’m over 60, I can’t wear some of those without looking like an American tourist in Spain.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know I knew two whole Americans in Spain and they were both perfectly lovely, even in their worst moments of fashion.” Reinhardt boasted, standing up and getting into the fitting room, sorting through a couple of brighter shirts, notably grabbing some blues and teals. “Try these on- you had this suit in this blue that I always thought looked quite striking.”

“When I was fighting you.” Siebren noted, shaking his head in amusement. “You noticed what I was wearing.”

“Of course! Talon has many flaws but their costumes have a certain flair when it’s someone interesting!”

“You’ve got issues Rein.” Lúcio noted with a low voice, and Brigitte gave a long-suffering nod of agreement, sitting back down to wait for them to finish. He appeased the crowd by trying on some of the more interesting picks, finding that, yes, teal really did suit him. He'd always thought he looked better in grey, since his eyes had a bit of that tone, but he was surprised by how sharp it made him look.

Siebren couldn't help but notice that Reinhardt was staring at him appreciatively, and he felt a little flutter inside. Did he like what he saw? Atrophied legs and overworked arms and all?

Lúcio graciously covered it, and Siebren promised that he’d pay him back.

It was likely just how worn out he was after all that activity, but he felt his control on the world slip, and he felt his shoes hit the ground. Reinhardt felt the brunt of his weight, and Siebren took in a deep breath. “I think I’m almost…done, with shopping.” He admitted, quiet, balancing against Reinhardt’s bulk.

“Can you make it through the grocery store? It’s nearby.” Brigitte asked, and Siebren swallowed, thinking about that. “We won’t be getting much. Tonight’s my night to cook and we figured we should also stock back up on breakfast stuff.”

“Ah, Siebren and I can head back early.” Reinhardt said, something again sparkling in Brigitte’s eyes as Siebren bit his lip, standing straighter.

“I, I can keep it together.” He denied, taking a steadying breath. “I can work all day in a lab. I can pull together for a grocery trip.” He stood tall, using Reinhardt as a balance point as he got back to floating. “It was all the going up and down from changing, I think. I had to turn off this…gravity field while I was changing, just to make it easier. Plus, I…I’ll have to get something to cook, right? Eventually.” He trailed off, realizing again that perhaps they wouldn’t trust him to cook for them.

“Really, I want one of those terrible waffles with the chocolate on them they have at these kinds of stores.” He said, conspiratorially. “Moira never took me shopping in Rome, and Oasis didn’t have those kinds of junk foods. It’s no stroopwafel, but it’ll do in a pinch.”

Lúcio made a disgusted face. “Those taste awful! The chocolate just sticks to your tongue.”

“I know.” Siebren agreed, delighted. “It’s part of the fun. They were impossible to get on the moon, Harold said the same thing about his little brownies with the bright sprinkles.”

“Oh yes, Jesse used to sneak them back onto base after missions in the States!” Reinhardt recalled. “He and Gabriel practically had a business dealing in illicit junk food. They definitely broke several laws doing that alone.” He shook his head, exasperated. “Jack would always say he was more inclined to twinkies.”

“You know, the more I hear about this Jesse figure, the more I wonder why he’s not here.” Lúcio said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as they walked through the store, Brigitte and Reinhardt getting their things together.

“McCree…well.” Reinhardt started, and then faltered. “It’s not for lack of us trying, that’s for certain. He was apparently one of the first people to talk with Winston and Tracer about it. He was the one who found Echo and freed her from her imprisonment.” The man trailed off again. “But unlike most of us, who were apart of Overwatch, McCree was Blackwatch. More than that, he was specifically Reyes’ right hand, and Jesse himself has pointed out that we don’t need that sort of attention when we’re so new.”

Brigitte bit her lip, rubbing her hands. “These stories, Lú, they’re all from so long ago. I barely even remember McCree, and even though a lot of people have good stories about him…He did bad things for bad reasons, bad things for good ones too. Both before and during his time in Blackwatch. Did you ever hear of a gang called Deadlock?”

“I mean, I know they’re famous arms dealers in the American Southwest and have established some kind of order in that situation.” Lúcio admitted, confused. “But they’re almost as old as the Crisis.”

“That’s because McCree was one of its founders.” Reinhardt said, quietly. “It’s easy to forget it, especially in the man he’s become since then.” He brightened up, the effort not unnoticeable. “And he was a complete scoundrel! A dashing one, but never one to let his desires go unnoticed.”

_Are you sure he can’t see me?_

> _Lighten up, McCree, he’s been like this for a month. He’s not gonna do anything. Those implants in his head have been doing the heavy lifting; we have to wait to see what’s underneath it._

_Sombra’s voice was clear in the back of his mind, and ~~Sigma~~ is looking at a man who’s on the cusp of being middle aged, smoking a cigar. He was shirtless, and Sombra wrapped her arms around his middle._

> _What, you like an audience?_

_The stranger was unnerved then, in spite of the chuckle, and Siebren was now unnerved, watching from so very far away. Sombra rolled her eyes._

> _You scoundrel. I’m just in charge of watching him today. Apparently Moira’s been assigned him since Vialli got tired of the space cadet wrecking havoc, and she’s busy._
> 
> _There’s something so satisfying about the idea that Moira’s stuck with someone who can tear her apart limb from limb._

_McCree grinned as he said that, helping Sombra out of her bra with practice, the woman sitting on his lap, arms wrapped around his shoulders, delicate hands and prosthetics touching over a back filled with a sky of scars, and purple eyes watched Siebren from over his shoulder._

> _I don’t know if you can hear me, big guy, but you should rest. Probably would be more comfortable for your neck if you lay back down._
> 
> _Ugh, Sombra, if we’re going to do this here, you can’t talk to him while we’re doing it._

_Sombra pressed an impersonal kiss to his cheek, all heat and no intimacy, and Siebren felt his body moving because he saw his perspective change rather than feeling any closer to his body._

_But it worked,_ Siebren _._

“Siebren.” Lúcio said again voice getting louder, interrupting his reverie. “Hey, are you okay?”

Lúcio’s hand was on his, looking up at him. The music that filtered through that of the universe’s was constant, lively and yet calming, and very much…robust seemed the wrong word for it, but it was definitely more reminiscent of the synths he often heard with Sombra, though not as conspicuous.

Siebren looked around, feeling lost. The memory had been a combination of a room that looked like a hotel room, deep blue tones on the walls and silky sheets beneath him, surrounded by the aisles of the store, and he pressed his fingers against his lips, cupping his chin slightly. “Just, just a dream, of another time and place.” He explained, keeping his voice measured, even, not wanting to frighten him. “I’m…alright.”

“We’re almost done.” Lúcio said, breathing out, seeming relieved as he let his hand go. “Does it happen often?”

“Hmm?” Siebren shook his head again, licking his lips, before breathing out to steady himself, forcing himself to float back down. “Oh, well. Not really. I’m not sure. Not often that I’m… _really_ lost, not enough for others to notice. At least I don’t think. I hope not.” His hands went down and gripped his pants. “I think, I think I met McCree. Or saw him, with Sombra. I was in…in a hotel room, just…observing. Unable to move.”

“Not out of the question.” Lúcio reasoned. “Sombra’s technically Talon, right?” He asked, quieting his voice. “She and I’ve spoken before, hell worked together before. I didn’t know she _was_ Sombra, I thought she was apart of the group that made Sombra up. But she worked alongside a lot of…well, people. And it stands to reason that a name like McCree would work in the same circle that she does.”

“They work in the same circle, right.” Siebren repeated, feeling his cheeks flush at the memory of McCree arms wrapped around Sombra’s naked front, her legs spread apart as she sat on his lap.

“Unless you remembered something specific?” Lúcio raised a lone eyebrow, curious.

“It was triggered when Reinhardt mentioned McCree’s…tendencies.” He slowly revealed, hands fiddling with the seam of Reinhardt’s borrowed shirt, and Lúcio’s eyebrows rose together, eyes widening as he sensed a story. “The two were in a…compromising position. I believe they thought I couldn’t actually…see them. I was, I, well, I,” He stumbled over the words. “I was mentally… _scattered_. Buried beneath the implant.” He finished, not graceful in the least.

His hand trembled as it went to the broken piece of technology on the side of his head, scabbed over entirely now, itching slightly as he touched it, and Lúcio’s facial tone slackened a bit once he understood.

“It’s broken, isn’t it?” Lúcio said, looking at his forehead intently. “Like, actually broken, after Reinhardt hit you.”

“I, I believe so.” The words were clumsy, as though his tongue was too big for his mouth. “Though, it started with Brigitte. I was…suddenly there, on the battlefield, facing her and Tracer. I was…lost. In nothingness, surrounded by stars, and then I was there, with them, and yet, Sigma listened to orders because even though my body felt like it was asleep, like it was frozen, unbalanced.” He swallowed, before continuing. “It’s the first and only mission I recall, that was actually a mission.”

“They just…controlled you? Like a human _puppet_?” Lúcio’s eyes were huge, his expression veering towards scared.

Siebren shook his head, unsure. “Those have been there for…a long time.” He mumbled, hands gripped tight on the edge of his shirt, starting to stretch it, trembling so badly that he felt like he was coming apart at the seams, the memories raw and awful and fresh, so fresh. “Put in me while I was in The Hague. They were there because, I, because I,” He lurched on the edge, staring at the abyss of stars, the hotel room just as real as the store around him, his hands shaking, trying to hold it together, he couldn’t break apart here. “I was, was,” He gasped, feeling water on his cheeks.

Out of nowhere, he was enveloped in warmth, tightly held together by something other than his fraying desire to stay whole, and he smelled only faintly of cologne, the warmth far more present in his mind than the cold void and sanitized room.

“Enough, Siebren. That’s enough.” Reinhardt said, firmly. “Brigitte, Lúcio, we’ll see you back at base.” He announced, and there was no arguing about it.

Reinhardt let him go, then, and Siebren breathed out then, gaze distant as he felt hot shame course through him again. He’d been doing well, he thought. And yet, he was spent, fraying apart after only two hours of being out in public. He should have been able to do this and yet he couldn’t.

Reinhardt took the bag from him, and then took his hand, rubbing it slightly. The familiar motion (Moira and her soothing touches, Harold and his platonic love) relaxed his tense stance, but he could just feel his embarrassment. He was barely functional, him, a fully-grown adult, barely scraping by.

“Are you alright?” Reinhardt asked him, once they were alone, and the streets around them were empty.

“I should be.” He muttered, embarrassment turning into frustration, his free hand tightening into a fist, looking down at the ground.

“Don’t be hard on yourself, Siebren.” Reinhardt said, giving him a more even tone. “When was the last time you’ve done any of the things you’ve done today? Had a celebrity friend accosted in public a few times over, gone shopping for clothes, or experienced…a memory, in public?”

“I…” He paused, thinking about that long and hard. “I’ve never been good at interviews with the public, or being apart of that scene. And as for how long it’s been…well over a decade, at least. The last time I dealt with it was my conference about the upcoming experiment on the ISS.” He bit his lip. “I’ve also not gone shopping for myself for about that amount of time as well. Talon took care of that for me. And…I’ve never gotten lost in time in a public space. Only ever in my lab, or my room. Places I knew.”

“And today you dealt with all of that, without any breaks.” Reinhardt rationalized. “All things considered, you’ve done more than fine. The main worry was that you’d potentially become violent under stress, and that hasn’t happened. Fear, anxiety, stress, that’s all normal.” He squeezed his hand again, pausing to look at him. “Because what you’ve gone through for the past decade hasn’t, frankly, been normal.”

They started walking again, and Reinhardt slowly opened up. “After the crisis, all of us, in our own ways, had to process it. Almost a decade of our lives, gone, lost fighting a war, but we were the lucky ones. I knew so many good people who didn’t make it.” He let out a hefty sigh. “I was even luckier because I had people around me who understood what I was going through, who’d fought beside me, and who’d both won and lost.” He looked at Siebren, carefully, as though gauging his response.

Quite the way to put it, really, and it did put him on the spot. “When, you put it that way…” He mumbled, floating down to earth, landing on solid ground, having to stop for a long moment, a break from where he was floating. “I can see that. As a normal reaction to an… unusual situation. Moira always mentioned I needed a psych consult.”

“Now that’s the pot calling the kettle black.” Reinhardt said dryly, huffing out with a roll of his eyes.

“She knew that.” Siebren defended his friend, quiet. “Just also knew it’d be hard to get one. I often lashed out at her, and she was my ally. Even then…how would she get one past Talon? Wouldn’t Talon want to know what their weapon was thinking? _That_ their weapon was thinking?” He laughed, the sound low. “Moira was thinking it, from the first moment I really recall, where I was in control. She said as much, when I came to after the battle, and asked, about…what we were fighting, and was wrong, us, or them. And she made clear that someone would get, in her words, ‘twitchy,’ imagining me against them.”

Reinhardt had seemingly gone silent at that, and that was understandable. “I just… Everyone, including her, has told me I should hate her. But I can’t. And I can’t understand why so many others _do_.”

“She’s told you that?” Reinhardt asked, expression considering his words, and Siebren nodded.

“She’s always been the person to tell me the truth. Even when I wished that she had better things to tell me.” He floated back up after a breath, willing himself to keep going. He could get back on his own; he was going to do it.

“Would you want to see a psychologist?” Reinhardt said, instead of bringing Moira back up.

“I…” He paused, rubbing the crook of his elbow. “I don’t know. I don’t think anyone will…understand me. Understand what’s happened. What I’ve been experiencing.” He bit his lip. “I know in my file, it says I developed schizophrenia, but I don’t think that’s…what happened.” He shuffled uncertainly. “I’ve not even seen a doctor, let alone someone more specialized. Even if I did…I’d frighten them as badly as they’d frighten me.”

“Wait, Angela’s not even seen you yet?” Reinhardt’s expression turned to almost comical shock. “That can’t be right! I hurt you, not realizing you were surrendering yourself and she never checked up on you?”

Siebren shifted again, letting Reinhardt grab him by his shoulders. “Baptiste checked up on me.” He said, an excuse to not see the doctor, who by this point had built up into quite the figure in his mind. “I’ve managed alright.”

Reinhardt, to his credit, sensed the issue after a moment of looking Siebren’s face over, the man having to avert his eyes to hide his shame, his fear, and Reinhardt released him, taking his hand again as he started the trek back to base. “I won’t force you. But it is something to keep in mind, Siebren.” He knocked his head. “I’ve worked by way around a few myself! But, they can lead to their own kind of instability, and exhaustion.” He nudged Siebren. “So, another thing working against you that you’ve performed in the face of.”

“I just want to be normal.” He admitted, quiet. “I’m tired of the exceptionalism, Reinhardt. I don’t want reasons to have done the things I’ve done. I just want… a moment, where I’m…not this, where I’m just…Siebren.” He finished, futzing with his hands. “I used to be disliked because I was a bit eccentric. Now I could, technically, be jailed for war crimes.”

Reinhardt didn’t seem to know how to respond, before he put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll let you in on a secret, Siebren.” He nudged the man, kindly enough. “We’re all war criminals here. And Overwatch is full of interesting characters.” He squeezed his hand, before letting it go. “Our leader’s a gorilla and his second in command bends time! We have the modern day equilivant of Beyoncé turned rebel in our midst. If everyone’s just as bizarre as you, can you really call yourself the exception?”

Again, he was forced to put it all in perspective. Even in his time in Talon, he hadn’t been the only one who’d been special. Lacroix had been blue for god’s sake, Sombra had been up to her eyeballs in specialized tech built into her skin, and both Moira and Gabriel regularly faded into smoke and could communicate telepathically.

“I…suppose not.” He allowed, thoughtful, letting himself relax again.

“Though my friends would tend to agree with you.” Reinhardt eventually allowed. “Ana was always talking about how she’d prefer for us all to slow down every now and again.”

“She seemed very kind.” Siebren agreed, the two of them winding backwards toward base, “But also…sad. Reyes had a lot of pictures in that base.”

“A base?” Reinhardt’s interest in that was obvious.

“A former Blackwatch safe house,” He realized, thinking about the symbols on the wall he’d never questioned before. “In Rome. Come to think of it, I don’t know why we were there. HQ was so very close by.”

“Talon’s headquarters is in Rome?” He confirmed, and Siebren nodded, rubbing his hands against themselves, seeking stimulation.

“I hope she’s alright. Moira never brought her up again.” Siebren murmured, before realizing that, too, was incorrect.

_Moira’s body, on the verge of falling apart, yet still carrying his weight, knowing no other way of moving forward than damning herself to the consequences. Her experiments over the years, what had happened to Gabriel, her involvement with Talon and how she played a dangerous game on the council- and yet she put one foot in front of the other because behind her the ground was crumbling, the bridges burnt._

_At the time, Siebren hadn’t been aware enough to care that she’d had fangs instead of teeth, her eyes had multiplied on her face, and her limbs had been turning to smoke._

_“Well, you know what? Ana can stuff her morals elsewhere. I did my part. I reached out, I did my due diligence- I put you into their hands with the assumption that they, you know, would know what to do with you from there.”_

_That’s what the monster had said, indicating that perhaps this entire venture had been Amari’s idea._

_~~“You can’t hear me, can you? You’re not **able** to.”~~ Amari’s voice was filtering in now, her eyes horrified as she sat opposite to him. ~~“Is…is Gabriel like this too? Is this what Talon can do? Is this how they destroyed Overwatch?” She laughed, the sound nervous, too quick to be natural. “How do you even fight this? Can anyone fight this? How can Jack and I fight this?”~~_

Siebren blinked, and glanced to Reinhardt, the man’s expression frankly, a bit sad. “Let’s…get you back to base.” He said, and Siebren realized what he’d said about his friends leaving him behind, being worried for her safety at the same time.

He realized, that the social norm had yet to be entirely fulfilled. “Reinhardt… thank you.” He smiled, trying to brighten the man back up, not liking him looking sad and almost dejected. “Today was…nice. You’ve been very kind. And thank you, of course for the clothing loan.” He squeezed the man’s hand back, taking another steadying breath out.

He was going to get back to base, and he realized, in that same breath, that it was almost as easy as thinking he was going to get home.

Reinhardt almost looked surprised, but the look faded back into an easy smile as he patted Siebren quite roughly on the shoulder, the man careening forward in space, from the motion, Reinhardt having to catch him with an apologetic ramble about how he hadn’t realized that might happen.

XXXXX

He was quite tired for a long while after that, even though saying pleasant goodbyes to Reinhardt felt a little funny. He’d worn himself thin, and he had taken a long nap after returning.

Regardless, after his nap, he’d turned to the cat clock and realized quite a bit of time had passed. He slipped on some of his new clothes, finding comfort in the fact they were his, and had returned to the kitchen, feeling like he was slowly gaining comfort with his new surroundings, foreign and scary as they’d been at first.

Brigitte had been putting away leftovers as Baptiste worked with a woman he didn’t quite recognize in the kitchen, the two of them chatting cordially as they completed the task with absolute precision.

“So, like, I think he’s perfect!” Brigitte announced, nodding firmly. “My plan has been set into motion! The two got along great today.”

“Does he like men?” The stranger asked, seeming amused.

Brigitte nodded vigorously. “He does. They were teasing each other! I’d go so far to call it flirting.”

“Well, that’s something. And he’s interested in you meddling?”

“It’s not meddling, I’ve been travelling with him for what, the past several years? The guy practically presented himself on a platter as exactly his type, I’m just…encouraging things along.”

“Oh? And what is his type?” The stranger paused, curious, a grin on her face, before she gestured with her chin towards where Siebren was standing. Siebren froze, realizing he’d been spotted and had, indeed, been eavesdropping.

“Oh, Siebren.” Brigitte followed the gesture and spotted him, and quickly realized something, pushing the woman slightly forward. “Meet Fareeha.”

“Hello,” The woman said, extending a cordial hand. “Sorry for the less than…kind greeting. I’ve come to understand you don’t remember meeting me on the battlefield.” Fareeha nodded as Baptiste rolled his eyes, wiping his hands on a towel.

“What Lieutenant Amari means to say she’s sorry for pulling her gun on you.” He interrupted. “She’s just bad at apologies, especially when she was just a bit too hasty.”

Right, he remembered. She’d pulled the gun on him when he’d accidentally frightened Mei. Fareeha, or Lieutenant Amari, as Baptiste had suggested, rolled her eyes and shoved back against Baptiste, shaking her head as she scoffed.

“I’m hardly a Lieutenant here, no more than you’re a sergeant.” She pointed out, before her expression evened out, and she sighed. “I shouldn’t have assumed. Baptiste is right, Mei is easily scared, and you don’t make any noise when you’re in the room. I hope we can get along in the future.”

She stuck out a hand, and he shook it, a bit confused as to why Brigitte grinned at her, and grabbed her arm and shook it.

He took his plate out of the microwave, looking down at the meat and dumpling dish curiously. “Thank you for cooking, Brigitte. It smells great.” He complimented. “And thank you, for shopping with me today.” He stretched out his new shirt to emphasize. “I’ll wash my dishes when I’m done.” He told them both, and Baptiste shrugged.

“At your leisure, Siebren.” Baptiste said, grabbing the next plastic bin of dishes, and carrying it to the sink.

Brigitte sat at the island counter as Fareeha started unpacking the dishes and placing them into the dishwasher with Baptiste, and Siebren decided that he wanted to actually enjoy the night sky rather than occupy the room with them, seeing that they’d obviously been talking about something that they didn’t continue with him in the room.

It wasn’t often that he was able to just…enjoy the stars, and the idea of eating beneath them tingled his more romantic sensibilities, and so left, carefully tracing his path through the base.

Siebren pushed open the door to the observation deck after a short walk through base, and settled down on the floor, putting his plate beside him as he looked upwards, sighing out as stress from the encounter uncurled in his chest. He rubbed at the tension in his sternum thoughtfully.

Perhaps, there was something to the other man’s suggestion that it might be something like PTSD.

How long had he been forced into a state of hyper vigilance? At least since he’d arrived here, but likely ever since Moira confirmed to him that something was deeply wrong with Talon, ever since he asked. And that wasn't even including the complicated phenomena known to him only as Sigma. Could that be a manifestation of his hyper vigilance?

It was a thought, and yet, the idea of seeing a doctor about it terrified him to his core, a thunk in the back of his mind as he laid down on the cliff side, his eyes turned up at the stars, his half-eaten plate getting cold beside him.

“Mind if I join you, Dr. De Kuiper?” Siebren sat up, and turned to find Winston, the gorilla seeming a bit awkward.

“Winston,” He paused, the name still a bit jarring. “Of course. I’ve not seen you since the interrogation.” He rubbed his neck, and Winston gave him an affirmative hum, the gorilla sitting down beside him.

“I’ve heard from everyone that you’re…settling.” He began, and Siebren nodded.

“Of course. There were a few bumps to start with but…I think it will be alright.” He looked up, staring at the stars and the waxing moon in the sky. “… do you ever miss it? Being out in space?”

“Of course.” Winston hummed, looking up with him. “But, at the same time, I don’t think I’d give up the life I’ve made here for it. When I escaped the moon and came to earth, Overwatch gave me a chance as well.” He rubbed his hands together, looking at them and away from the moon. “Of course, I wish Dr. Winston was here with me.”

“He was a good friend.” Siebren agreed, sighing. “I miss him as well.”

“Sometimes I just…think about what I could have done differently back then. That I escaped and so many others didn’t. Was it a mistake? Could someone else be doing better than I am?” He said, and even though Siebren could tell it was a rhetorical question, he took a steadying breath and shook his head.

“Someone else could, perhaps, everything is possible, but would they?” He pulled his legs in, and sat up straighter. “Harold and I always talked about this, and we agreed on one thing. That everything happens because of chance makes the moment we live in all the more magnificent. A million things could have gone differently, but we’re right here, together. Stardust and space junk become man, able to see how wonderful life is and feel all the accidents along the way that became our world. So, yes, anyone could have become the person you are today, but they didn’t. You did.”

“That’s a very romantic way of describing the world.” Winston hummed, nodding along.

“I’ll admit, in university I might have read the philosophy of too many Romantics.” Siebren leaned back. “It made me a fair bit more eccentric than my colleagues, who didn’t really have an interest in the philosophy of what we were after.”

“Do you miss the moon, Siebren?” Winston asked, and the older man gave a half-hearted smile.

“I don’t think I miss being on it.” He murmured. “The moon is beautiful, but cold. The people, though, I miss dearly.” He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t go back to the moon. The ones who made it warm, the ones who made it a home…they’re all gone now.” He sighed, looking back up to the stars. “I think more than anything I miss having something to do with my hands or my mind.”

“We’re still trying to figure out how to integrate you there.” He admitted, sheepish. “But, if you’re interested, I know that Mei has a decent amount of scientific research she did while exploring the globe, I’m sure having a new set of eyes on it will make her happy.”

“Oh, that’d be nice.” He didn’t show how he deflated upon hearing that they weren’t sure about that, not yet.

Winston bit his lip, obviously seeing through him. “Well, it’s more that we’re about to do a massive mission into the remains of Watchpoint: Zurich. It’ll take a decent amount of resources to pull off, and most of us will be going there because of how exposed we’ll be.” He shifted. “I’m leaving Lúcio, Brigitte and Efi here, I trust them, it’s just…we’re going to be walking through a mass grave. Efi’s too young for that; Brigitte knew many of the people we might find there. And Lúcio will be in charge of this smaller strike team. I trust his judgment in case something happens here.”

“Why tell me this?” Siebren asked, confused.

“You’re…well.” He restarted. “I’m giving you emergency agent permissions. Talon has tried to attack this base before, and I’m almost positive they’ll try again, if they know most of us aren’t here. Especially considering we have two of their top agents. You’re a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield, Siebren.”

“I’ve never had to fight before, not as…well. Not as _me_.” He felt his jaw clench up, concern running through him. “Couldn’t you leave someone else?”

“We are, we’re leaving Orisa as well. Unfortunately, the mission we have in mind, getting deeper into the heart of Zurich… We can’t spare many more. We’d ask Reinhardt to stay instead of Orisa, but he made a powerful case for him going. It was his friends he’d be going through for this information. I’m asking you because 3 agents aren’t enough against Talon. We prefer groups of 4. You, Orisa, Brigitte and Lúcio.”

 _“Your job in the future will be to be the big guy in the middle_.” Sombra’s voice came to him easily.

“…Alright. I don’t like it, but I’ll do what I can. I certainly don’t want anything to happen to those kids.” Siebren agreed, tepid. “If they need protection, I’ll be there.”

“That’s all. Hopefully Talon will have lost some steam without their Reaper.” Winston encouraged, sitting back up. “We’re still figuring out the logistics, but it’ll happen in the next week or so.”

“And as for Reaper, what has been going on in the discussions about them?” Siebren asked, and Winston shook his head.

“We’re still figuring out what to do. It’s not an easy question to answer.” Winston admitted, rubbing his arms. “I know we’ve not exactly kept you informed, but hopefully we find something to back up the working theory you’ve provided evidence for in Zurich.”

“Alright, Winston. Thank you for telling me. Good luck.” Siebren said, rubbing his arm thoughtfully, before he reached over to pick up his plate, and stare up at the sky, giving another long sigh as he finished his meal, and settled in to enjoy the night.

XXXXX

By the time he was done with dinner, the festivities in the kitchen and living space had long since died down. It wasn’t unsurprising, given that it was rather late now. He passed by the fridge after washing his plate, and gave pause as he saw his own name on the white board, and he took the time to read it, intrigued as he realized it was just what Lúcio and Brigitte had talked about when he’d been in here that morning.

> Dinner Duty
> 
> Excused: Bastion, Echo, Orisa, Siebren
> 
> M: Torb / Baptiste
> 
> T: Winston / Sojourn + Efi
> 
> W: Reinhardt / Mei
> 
> Th: Pharah / Tracer
> 
> F: Genji / Mercy
> 
> S: Brigitte / Lúcio
> 
> S: (On Saturdays, if it is your off-week, draw straws. Short straw figures out dinner on Sundays. Alternatively, anyone can volunteer, including excused members. Lastly, if you don’t clean up your midday dishes, you’re automatically assigned Sunday dinner duty.)

_Winston_ , written in the middle of the board under the list, _that’s still too complicated. We always forget to draw straws on Saturday, and then whoever’s sorting out dinner has to go shopping on Sunday. We need a better system._

 _Or two more members,_ was written under that, a big winking smiley face drawn beside it.

> Dish Duty
> 
> Excused: Bastion
> 
> M: Lúcio + Brigitte + Siebren
> 
> T: Genji + Angela
> 
> W: Winston + Lena
> 
> Th: Torb + Reinhardt
> 
> F: Echo + Mei
> 
> S: Baptiste + Fareeha
> 
> S: Sojourn + Efi + Orisa

_Angela, for the last time, we all know you’re the last person to use the coffee pot! Empty it out!_

The last bit made him chuckle, and he turned and looked at the coffee pot, noticing quickly that Angela hadn’t in fact emptied it out. With an ease settling into his bones as he grabbed the dish and dumped it in the sink, washing out the remains of the cold coffee before he set it back in it’s stand.

He really was free, wasn’t he?

Siebren rubbed his peach fuzz on his scalp, and his shoulders relaxed. “I think I’ll grow it out.” He murmured to himself, looking at his name written on the board outlining chores for the communal area.

He really was home, wasn’t he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The new sigma skin tho...that looks nice, real nice. The glasses, the bowtie, HIS HAIR.
> 
> Thank u so much for reading,, im trying to build up some sort of relationship between sig and rein before putting my dolls 2gether and saying "KISS" thank u for the comments too, it helps me to kno yall are enjoying things!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi yall! Thanks for reading! We hit 69 kudos (nice). I'm so happy to see that so many people are enjoying my work. sorry its taking me a bit of time to get these suckers finished. I've been pretty busy with work and its been draining me. Thank you to people who commented, it really made my day to read all of y'alls words and how you feel abt the fic.

Visiting the Blackwatch Keep wasn’t half as hard as he thought it was going to be. Frankly, it was shockingly easy. He just had to wait until it was movie night, and then dip out of the room, citing being tired as his reason.

Reinhardt looked a bit disappointed to see him go, the group watching a classic action/horror flick from their shared childhoods, but the younger members were all fine with it, waving him goodnight as he left.

He typed his code into the elevator as discreetly as possible, and Athena’s blue turned red. “Welcome back, Agent De Kuiper,” Minerva said pleasantly, the doors opening and revealing the Blackwatch symbol within.

Siebren got into the elevator, and felt it descend slowly to the keep.

The doors opened back up to the hallway, and there was a light from further down than the area the cells were in. He floated towards it, passing by where Moira and Reyes had obviously been sleeping, and the open interrogation room he recalled distastefully.

He was surprised to find a tiny nook of a kitchen area, and Reyes sitting at the island while Moira leaned against the counter by a stove, both of them watching the oven. It smelled distinctly of bread, and there were open, obviously old supplies on the countertop.

“We’ve got company,” Reyes said gruffly, a beanie far down over his eyes.

Moira perked up, eye bags obvious and dark against her pale skin. “Mm? It’s only Siebren, Gabriel.” She said, checking the bread by opening the oven a crack before standing up fully.

“You two look worse for wear.” Siebren said, pulling out food from the above kitchen area and setting it down on the counter between them. Both Moira and Gabriel looked at the food, at each other, and reached at the same time, flawlessly moving and taking what they could of the leftovers Siebren had managed to snag.

They were silent for a minute, before Reyes spoke. “I mean, we’re prisoners in our own fucking base. Of course we’re not looking good.”

“Thank you for the food, Siebren.” Moira said after swallowing. “They’ve brought food, but not much. Never enough considering we’ve both lost our primary source of energy.” She frowned, rubbing at the crease of her purple elbow. “You’re looking much better. Have they pulled their heads out of their arses?” She asked, raising an eyebrow as she leaned back against the counter.

“Oh, I think so.” He agreed, tepid. “It was stressful, but…most of them have come around to the idea of me being…here.” He finished awkwardly. “Baptiste helped smooth things over.”

“Mm, Sombra mentioned she had a friend on the inside.” Moira hummed, rubbing her face. “Have they told you about their plans for us?”

“No.” He shook his head. “They don’t know what to do, frankly. It’s caused a good deal of stress on the base, I know.”

“That’s because we’re what Blackwatch would have originally taken care of.” Gabriel groused, seeming extraordinarily surly. “What a Blackwatch problem to have. Two fuckin’ traitors who are also terrorists. Christ. Jack wouldn’t have wanted to touch this issue with a 9 foot pole.”

“Granted, right now Overwatch as a whole is acting illegally.” Moira tempered his anger by handing him another piece of food. “So they can’t just hand us over to some other authority.”

“Is the monkey _really_ in charge? I would have assumed it’d be Reinhardt, maybe even Sojourn or Lindholm, but not him.” Gabriel asked, and it took a second to realize he was asking Siebren, and not Moira.

“Yes, Winston is in charge, from what I’ve seen.” Siebren agreed. “With Tracer as his second in command. Reinhardt is here, though, but not officially in a position of authority.” He paused, trying to place the name Sojourn. He quickly remembered the woman with the implants, who was so close to Efi. He assumed that since she was working with Efi on base in other places, it made sense that would be her. “I’ve not seen much of Sojourn, but she’s not leading either.”

“And Jack and Jesse are nowhere to be seen.” Gabriel huffed, shoulders drooping. “And Ana’s with Jack.”

“Ana and Morrison are likely biting at the nib to get to us- they were last seen in Europe, and Morrison was tracking _you_.” Moira said thoughtfully, having turned around to rummage in the cabinets, locating a mug with a triumphant laugh. She turned and touched an electric kettle, seeming smug. “He’s likely kicking himself, prowling at the gates like one of us ghouls because he doesn’t have an invitation to this new Overwatch. God help us if McCree hears we’re trapped here. Though, I believe he is stuck stateside.”

“Actually he’s not,” Siebren swallowed. “I’ve seen him.”

Both Moira and Gabriel froze, Moira horrified, Gabriel just stunned to hear that.

“Where?” Moira asked, bewildered.

“In Oasis, I think.” He admitted. “Before…before I was awake, really. It was a memory that must have been from shortly after you were assigned me. I was in a hotel room with Sombra… they were…well. In a compromising position.” He flushed, and Moira did as well, but Reyes’ eyes widened, the expression almost comical.

“Sombra fucked _my_ goddamned agent?” He said, haunches rising, even as all the tension went out of Moira and she shook her head, face in her hand. “I’m going to kill her!”

“6 years, Reyes. 6 years. Almost 7. That’s how long he’s believed you were dead for.” Moira reminded. “McCree could be in a new relationship and he wouldn’t be wrong for it. Now, considering how well I know the stupid cowboy through _you_ , I doubt that's the case, but don’t drag Sombra any further into you and McCree’s train wreck of a relationship than she’s already put herself.” She paused, thinking on that. “For that matter, he’s not even your agent anymore- not yours, nor in anyone else’s. A loose end, more than anything.”

“Moira, I really don’t want to hear this from you.” He said, pointing a finger at the woman, who rolled her eyes at the outburst.

“Then who from? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Reyes, but no one else is here for your sake. Just as no one will come to my defense.” She made a disgusted face. “We both have done quite terrible things, Gabriel. We’ve made no friends here, and you’ve certainly lost the ones you had.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed.” Reyes dryly responded, “And why did we do them?”

Moira looked at him, and she looked a thousand years older than she was. The youngest of all 3 of them by at least a decade, and she looked so tired, so worn thin, gaunt and ghoulish.

“There was never a situation where we _could_ win, Gabriel. I’ve long since accepted that truth, and you should too, if you plan on trying to move forward.” She said, instead of answering. “You were on death’s door, which _was_ the plan for you, that you’d work until you died from your condition. And I was _always_ expendable.” She shook her head. “Victory over those two truths came with a great cost, that we’ve paid in blood. Ours, and that of others.”

Gabriel sank back down, hating the facts of the situation being laid out so plainly. “I should have trusted Jack.” He put his face in his hands, coughing. “I should have told him. I was so wrapped up in keeping him clean and our enemies unawares that I didn’t see what was happening to me. And it was my _job_ to see what was happening.”

“I’ve already told you.” Moira sighed. “That _was_ the plan. We know for fact that agents in the United States government were consorting with Talon and Talon had bought information about the SEP and the Reaper. The game was rigged from the start. Liken it to weighted die or a card trick if you must in order to get it through your dense head, but they knew every move you’d make.” She shook her head again, drooping her eyelids as she rubbed her dark circles. “Talon’s not even the House in this game. They’re just a player, and we are yet again a set of chips at the table of a larger beast.”

“You’re talking nonsense again.” Reyes moaned, leaning back. “Fuck, can we get over withdrawal already? I feel like dogshit.”

“It’s _not_ nonsense.” Moira huffed. “Sombra told me about her Eye theory, and I believe it. It makes far too much sense, especially considering not even 15 years ago Talon as you knew it was just a mercenary group. The rest got together somehow. I can’t picture Vishkar, the Italian mafia, the previous Doomfist, a former Deadlock leader, a handful of government officials and some Overwatch traitors getting together as the work of a mercenary group.”

“Moira, it was part of my job, well, mostly Gérard’s job to figure out the hows.” Gabriel said from beneath the beanie. “But it’s not like I didn’t spend only the greater portion of my career working this. I can only _just_ remember Sombra. She doesn’t know more than me on the subject.”

“She might, actually. Having soaked far too much of you over the years, I think she does know more than you about some of the inner machinations of the world.” Moira disagreed, closing her own eyes tiredly. “As for the withdrawal, we’re almost a week out from our last dose. This is _likely_ the worst of it. My body feels like it’s on fire. Is this menopause?” She thunk her head against the cabinets, frowning. “Is this a hot flash? Am I in menopause? I’m only 48…”

In a rare moment of solidarity, both Gabriel and Siebren looked at each other, reddish brown eyes meeting bluish grey ones, and then looked at Moira, and then back to each other, both coming up with the same face of horrified confusion as to what to say.

Gabriel stood up, patting her shoulder in solidarity. “There, there?”

“It’s likely just the drug withdrawal.” Siebren said quickly, nodding, trying to gloss over the matter quickly.

“Hey, even if it is, it could be worse- something like my genetic condition coming to kill you too! So there’s the bright side.” Gabriel nodded firmly as Moira groaned at them both.

“Gabriel Reyes, if I wound up actually with your condition we are both utterly fucked.” She said, giving into profanity with her exhaustion. “We still have to fix you, and your daughter, and your grandson. Granted, it’d clue me in, potentially, to which part of the SEP’s monkey code was the problem but… I _cannot_ be sick. Not now.” She rubbed her face and stood up straight, finally taking the bread out of the oven.

“I didn’t know you baked.” Siebren said, and Moira’s back tensed as she turned the bread out of its pan to let it cool.

“I don’t do it very often anymore.” She agreed. “And I usually keep it to myself, to remind me of better times. Though my _Reaper_ knew where to find the goods.” She looked at Gabriel with a hint of ire, the man looking a bit embarrassed at the callout. “Plus, almost all the goods in here were nonperishable only. The perishables are…long since rotten. We put the garbage in the armory since it’s emptied anyways, and we don’t have access to the garbage of the main base. I had to make something with raw ingredients and dried bits.” She said, almost defensive.

“Okay, I think I’m okay enough that we can unpack some of this now. You can explain to me the whole creepy, ‘my Reaper,’ thing, that you’ve been doing.” Gabriel said, and Moira’s shoulders slumped, as if disappointed by the reminder.

“I suppose.” She tepidly agreed, fiddling with the sterile looking white tableware she’d found in the cabinet and the electric kettle, before she poured out a cup of hot water for herself. “Simply put, Gabriel, to simplify the matter, there are 3 Reapers.” She held up three fingers as she turned back to him. “The first is…historic. You while you worked clandestinely for the US government during your time in Overwatch. Most, especially those in Talon, denote this Reaper by calling him The Reaper.” Siebren could hear her capitalize the phrase as a title.

“The second was what I made while you were comatose. I took the concept, the mask, and with programmed nanomachines that integrated with your smoke, created a surface level version of you that could…access at least some of your higher functions.” She made a face.

“I remember that.” He made an uneasy face. “It was between Rialto and London.”

She nodded again. “Because I made it, I oft call it _my_ Reaper. It also was rather brazen in picking my brains over for any information I had. So when I first felt you in my head, and you found me your mask, I invoked that symbolism. The name also helped to…convince Talon that I could control you. They liked that idea, as the first Reaper is their enemy.”

“Is?” Gabriel asked, and Moira gave a smile that sent a chill down Siebren’s back, the woman standing to her full height.

“Indeed. Sometimes, when you were you enough to be what we called, ‘present,’ you and I had a little _fun_. We both enjoyed watching Vialli sweat; I particularly enjoyed giving him veiled threats, reminding him of his mentor’s fate. I must say- killing so many of our enemies vicariously through you during Doomfist’s coup was a particularly joyous experience. I only regret that we allowed Doomfist the pleasure of Vialli.”

Her expression fell, then. “But then there was the third. Reaper. Just Reaper. And he was angry and in so much pain.” Moira trailed off, thoughtful. “As you described it, our connection was…fuzzy. Unclear. It felt like a limb that was asleep, and yet like lightning had struck me in the middle of a field. Mostly, I could tell what you were closest to by how you’d act towards me. My Reaper was always the boldest around me, yet a stranger to acting human. Reaper was always angry, and often would lash out. And sometimes you’d be the Reaper, as close to as you are right now as possible. But to maintain the façade I called them all Gabriel. And oftentimes you would slip from one to the next without reason or warning. And you’d occasionally lose time, most often as the Reaper.” She huffed. “Further complicating matters.”

She folded into herself, thoughtful. “Truthfully, Gabriel, I was worried, that if I ever found a cure, that there wouldn’t be anything of _you_ left to cure. As the only person with a grip on your mind, it was terrifying, to feel you falling apart, even as I desperately tried to hold you together.”

“I mean, I don’t blame you for thinking that.” Gabriel said, his expression having fallen, matching Moira’s in somberness. “The more I remember about where we were, what we were doing, the more I feel the same.” He shook his head. “It’s like I was an entirely new person.”

“You were in there, underneath it all, _sometimes_.” Moira disagreed, finally slicing the bread, handing Siebren and Gabriel pieces of it, blowing on the bread with a melancholy expression. “Let’s just hope that I get the chance to fix you this time.”

Siebren turned over the very hot bread in his hands, feeling like a voyeur as he did many times when it came to Moira and Gabriel, two shadows overlapping, a violin and viola paired together in a duet.

“So, De Kuiper.” Gabriel addressed him, and both Siebren and Moira raised an eyebrow.

“You can call me Siebren,” He allowed, and Gabriel waved that thought away for the time being.

“You’re our eyes on the inside for now.” Gabriel frowned. “Who all is on base?”

Siebren awkwardly looked at Moira, who looked at Gabriel after a moment of staring far away.

“Gabriel,” She said, slow and patient, but not infinitely so as the lilt of her voice upwards at the end belied. “Siebren isn’t an agent. Not ours, Overwatch’s or Talon’s. He’s a civilian, and one under Overwatch’s protection. You can’t give him an order and expect him to listen.”

“That’s,” Gabriel looked Siebren up and down, from where the man was obviously floating to obviously thinking back, his gaze turned inwards, slightly to the left. “I swear I’ve had missions with him.”

“You did.” Siebren said, licking his lips. “Ah…hm. Well.” He gestured at the implants, at the scab on the one side of his face. “I didn’t know what was going on during them.”

Gabriel balked, taking a long moment to blink, and settle down back at the counter. “Moira,” He said, voice strangled. “Our person that we got caught for, our person on the inside is a civilian?”

“And a good person.” She said, though it was obvious she deflated some at being reminded at her choices. “Siebren was in a dangerous position, Gabriel. I only intended on getting him caught. But then I had to rescue him from you, Lacroix almost shot me, and all 3 of us were captured.” She seemed to struggle for a defense for her actions, before something lit up. “And he’s bad off in Talon’s hands. That sort of power…”

“You were fine to just let Talon have me, though?” Gabriel said, unimpressed, and Moira glared at him.

“You…” her hands came up, in the ghost of attacking Reyes outright, her emotions far more volatile and surface level than Siebren had ever seen her. It was as though she was fraying now, and he supposed she was. From withdraw from drugs, and being plucked out of Talon, out of her home and her work, he couldn’t say which caused it, or if all of them were each playing a role in her unraveling.

“Reyes,” Siebren interrupted this, putting a supporting hand on Moira. “I understand this situation isn’t ideal for either of you. But the man I knew in Talon wasn’t one to voice disapproval of Talon. You were often outright pushing support for its goals, talking about its missions with Moira and others. Moira trying to extract you was the same as trying to extract Lacroix- almost a guaranteed death wish. I was only aware of…what Talon was for a day, but the weight of it was crushing, being afraid of you, Lacroix, I couldn’t go to anyone aside from Moira, and I didn’t want her to be found out.”

He put his hands together, awkward. “Though, I admit, I didn’t want to leave my strike team in Talon. You, Moira, Lacroix, and Sombra, though she likely didn’t need my help.”

Moira looked at him, expression distant. “Siebren,” She paused, sighing. “You…you wanted us to get caught?”

“I didn’t expect this to happen.” He rationalized, gesturing around. “I thought I was going to help you two and Widowmaker escape prison. I didn’t realize we were going to be made actual prisoners.”

“I suppose…I didn’t tell you enough about what I’d done.” She put her head down into her hand, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples. “The thought was a sweet one, if deeply misguided.”

“They’re trying to verify your story.” Siebren eventually said, trying to make things right.

“How on earth are they going to manage that?” Moira asked, a sour drawl to her voice as she took another piece of bread.

“They’re going to Zurich.” He allowed after a second. “Apparently there’s some sort of information they can seek.”

“There’d be a Black box, and if Athena’s online here, potentially they can jumpstart something to allow her back into Zurich’s systems.” Reyes agreed, sighing. “But if the explosion was that bad, I have no idea why they didn’t go get it before.”

“Because, Reyes, they did try.” She muttered. “Unfortunately, the Alps aren’t kind, and the wreckage of the base is highly dangerous to go through. They left at least well over half the presumed dead inside. Including you and Morrison.” Moira’s lips quirked into a smile, and Reyes rolled his eyes.

“So the Black box of the base is still there,” Reyes paused. “Wouldn’t Talon want it?”

“Naturally. And they have tried to go retrieve it. It was the only mission they’d never let you on.” She hummed. “The memories of that particular event might have something to do with your memory loss, though I always attributed your condition leading to the general amnesia-like symptoms.”

Reyes sagged. “I only remember bits and pieces of Zurich, so I can’t tell you.” He rubbed his temples. “God. I was so blind. I can’t believe they warped me into hating Jack- into a place I’d let him attack me and fight back.”

“To be fair,” Moira defended him. “He was being a right prick, and you were dying.”

“I know.” Reyes closed his eyes. “Still. To be able to go back and change things, to have what we did, before. I don’t think there’s anything I want more.”

“Your daughter and grandson to not have inherited your condition, perhaps?” Moira pointed out, and Reyes breathed out through his nose, nodding.

“That, yeah, that’d be good too. But I think if Jack had been helping us, we could have resolved that.”

“Overwatch was always planned to die.” Moira disagreed. “That they managed to rope you into being a shooter in the firing squad was a bonus for them. I’m positive that they would have found another way to end things if you and Morrison had been on the same side. Perhaps without his anger, he wouldn’t have had the strength to keep going. Just off your injuries alone, Reyes, I can’t imagine he was in great condition.” She trailed off. “My point is- we can’t change what we’ve done. We can only try to go forward. That’s all I have ever tried to do.”

“You’re terrible at comforting people.” Gabriel grumbled, shaking his head even as Moira gave him a scowl and a poorly disguised mental slap, if the way the other man flinched said anything about what was going on underneath the façades. “I know, though. I do. It doesn’t mean I don’t wish we’d made other choices.”

Moira frowned, before softening. “I’ve been wishing we’d made other choices too, Reyes. I’m trying my best, and yes, when it comes to people it’s never been close to enough.” She murmured. “It still does us no good to perseverate on what we decided. We can only keep trying to put one foot in front of the other. So they’re going to Zurich. That won’t necessarily show anything, I don’t think.” She chewed her lip, trying to think back.

“It might have some stuff.” Gabriel disagreed. “I know that before the fall, I was still trying, wasn’t I?”

“You were.” Moira agreed. “I also believe that the black box message for your family might be in there, explaining your condition in the event of your demise.” She frowned.

“And my family never got it?” Reyes balked, and Moira nodded, careful.

“The US government worked _very_ hard to ensure nothing about your condition came out. I doubt even if the black box had been located that they would have said much of anything to her.” She looked at him tiredly. “If the version I recall was the one you saved, you and I both talked at length about your condition, the work we’d done, and more or less outlined the big talking points- that you were an agent for the DOD, and people would definitely say things in the many years about what you did and who that made you, but you loved her and never meant for her to have to deal with this.”

“The red tape around the SEP was always more like a brick wall.” Reyes dryly noted, pulling his beanie down. “Welp. If anything makes them more likely to actually talk to us, that’ll be something.”

“I think Reinhardt wants to talk to you.” Siebren spoke up, soft, and Reyes eyed him with a bleary gaze from under the hat.

“Yeah?” He prompted, and Siebren nodded again, careful.

“I just…I don't know what might push him to trust you. He doesn’t trust Moira.”

“Unsurprising.” Moira let out a single huff that was a sad echo of a laugh. “None of them will trust me, Siebren. They didn’t _before_ I was apart of Talon, why would they trust me _now?_ ”

He snapped his fingers. “Of course! We just need to demonstrate that you didn’t always work for Talon!”

“I would have already given them this if such proof existed.” Moira said, lips thinning from displeasure.

“What of Amari?” He prompted, and Moira shifted, as Reyes lifted an eyebrow at that, nodding.

“Yeah. Ana trusts you, kind of, doesn’t she? I’ve poked around your mind enough to know that she’s the one who put you up to this.”

“An interesting idea, and not one that’s…wholly wrong. The issue is I’m not sure if she does, and even if she does, the idea she’ll reveal herself as alive to Overwatch is ludicrous.” Moira shot that down, but Siebren shook his head.

“I’ve already told them I saw her with you.” He rubbed his neck. “I also told them about the secret base in Rome, sorry about that.”

“I never asked you to keep Talon secret from them.” Moira agreed, though she looked worn beyond her years. “We’ll have to keep moving forward, and either they’ll find something worth giving us a chance to explain ourselves over, or they won’t. We can’t control that. So we have to move on to something we _can_ do.”

Moira’s bread was sweet in his mouth and a tad hot from not having let it finish cooling, but the scene before him was one where all involved were resolved to simply waiting, watching, and seeing what happened next.

XXXXX

Sneaking back out was actually a bit more troublesome, as it appeared that his absence on base had been noted again.

Moira had carefully monitored the hallway from within the base, before ushering him out back into the world, leaving the two shadows behind, fading into the darkness as they tried to find somewhere to exist again.

He wandered his way out to the seaside cliffs, where he most often haunted the base, and was surprised to find Reinhardt already outside, seeming confused. “Siebren!” He said, seeming relieved as Siebren approached. “We wondered where you wound up after the movie, Brigitte said you hadn’t gone to your room.”

“This is a big base.” He reasoned instead of giving up the truth. “I often just get turned around, especially in the old interior. Has my favorite haunt been figured out, then?” He gestured around, sitting down on the cliffs, as Reinhardt did the same, sitting next to him.

“Hah, you’re not the only one who enjoys the cliffs.” Reinhardt nudged him. “Once people noticed a new face, they found new spots or complained about it.”

“I didn’t mean to displace anyone.” He frowned, and Reinhardt shook his head.

“This base is full of isolated spots like this one, Siebren. They can find another, you didn’t mean anything by it.” Reinhardt leaned back on his hands, the breeze in his hair as the stars and moon stared down on them. “I always loved this base during the day, but it’s not bad at night, is it?”

Siebren hummed, leaning back as well, staring up at the stars. “I think it’s lovely at night. Still too much light pollution from the nearby cities, but…well. Sometimes its nice, to see the skies of childhood.”

“Oh?” Reinhardt said, curious. “I’ll admit- I did not do a lot of stargazing as a kid. Not much to see, in Stuttgart.”

“The same was true for me.” He agreed. “But when I was 6 or so, and my father didn’t really know what to do with me, my aunt took me on her boat, out into the Atlantic. I’d been overwhelmed from helping her, but she was always so understanding of my limits, back then. She pulled me out of bed with the promise of something I’d never seen before, and low and behold when I came out of the cabin, I saw the Milky Way for the first time.” He traced its absence in the sky, as light and clouds hid it. “After that, I couldn’t stop thinking about the night sky. I think my father was both grateful that I was…manageable, and terribly annoyed at his sister for giving me a new hyper fixation.”

Reinhardt snickered. “My parents just shoved me into as many sports as they could to deal with the amount of energy I had. I was already shaping up to be quite the large person, even as a boy. Unfortunately, none of them panned out for me, professionally. I was mainly considered far too bulky. Now, American football teams, those kinds of teams wanted me very badly. It wasn’t unsurprising that I wound up in the German military. I always wanted glory. And Balderich had thought that, perhaps, it’d put some discipline in me.” He chuckled at the memory.

“Discipline, hm?” Siebren felt along the line of humor, and nudged him lightly. “I take it that didn’t work, if how Brigitte always seems to moan about your behavior tells me anything.”

Reinhardt gave a boisterous laugh, knocking into him with an elbow. “My young squire has chosen to be at my side! I am very disciplined! I simply have a very disciplined moral system that demands I act in some cases!”

“I see.” Siebren hummed, bemused. “That’s unfortunate.”

He lay down, and Reinhardt followed suit, an easy comfort falling over the scene. “So, what’s up there?” Reinhardt asked, unable to keep the quiet, which Siebren didn’t really mind.

“Well, right now we can see Saturn and Jupiter.” He pointed out the two planets in the sky, and we can easily find most of the major constellations.” He traced the patterns. “From Polaris, to the Big and Little Dipper, Draco…actually, this part of the night sky was one of my favorites. With a good telescope, you can actually see galaxies faintly in the distance, and the Cat’s Eye Nebula. I’ve seen it better, seeing as I was in space, and had access to some of the best telescopes in the world…and yet, how marvelous, to remember being a boy and being handed some binoculars to look at the sky on a boat in the middle of nowhere, and being just as enamored with what was out there, watching us.”

“That’s ominous.” Reinhardt noted, playful.

“And in part a quote.” Siebren admitted, sighing. “I had a guilty pleasure of reading surrealist literature as a teen. But it is true. All the light we’ll ever see is old light, spending seconds or thousands of years to reach us. The light from those who’ve gone still hasn't reached the rest of the universe, and in theory, they never will, so out there, somewhere, they’re still alive and with us, existing only in the passage of time. Just as we exist the same to the stars, only ever echoing back to them long after we are gone.”

Reinhardt’s eyes were soft, shining slightly under the glow from the moon, and from the base behind them. “Quite romantic, that.” He said, and Siebren nodded, bashful.

“So I’ve been told before.” He agreed. “But when is a better time to be an eccentric romantic than when you’re stargazing?”

“Fair enough. I’m sure it made you quite popular,” Reinhardt teased. “I have always just been called a knucklehead, even by my lovers!”

“No, people aside from Harold and a few others didn’t think of me like that.” He admitted, a soft sigh on his lips. “The word most often ascribed to me from them was… _useful_.” He let that word sit in his stomach, a familiar dagger in his chest. “Then again, I made the choice of not letting many get close to me at all. Initial dislike fed my later interactions with them. I was many things. Capable of needless social interaction with those who found me irritating, I was _not_.” He chuckled, shaking his head of all the starry hours spent with Harold talking in low tones about the rest of the base.

Reinhardt seemed shocked by that, and Siebren patted his hand gently, before sitting up. “Say what you will Reinhardt, but the sort of charisma you have isn’t to be shirked off. And say what you will about intelligence, but I’ve been trapped inside my head long enough to wish I had a better personality beneath.”

Reinhardt sat up as well, chuckling as he floundered for a response, as Siebren hoped that the joke landed, and eventually it did, the man simply shocked that he’d made such a joke about the matter. “You do have _quite_ the personality, though! Don’t undersell yourself!” He pointed out, shaking his head. “The few times we fought on the battlefield, you were quite the oddball, even for Talon. The dark sense of humor you had made me laugh, even when it wasn’t funny, considering the circumstances.”

Siebren cracked an uncertain smile; hearing about his strange behavior second hand had always felt a little strange, even _before_ he’d had his head cracked open by a decade of isolation. He knew, though, Reinhardt didn’t mean it in a mean way.

He glanced back up at the stars, finding the lonely moon, shining down. “You know, on clear nights, with a telescope, you can see the Horizon.” He murmured. “And with the right luck, you can see the ISS. But it moves very quickly, so you have to know when to look or get extremely lucky.”

“I’ve never spent much time looking.” Reinhardt admitted. “Only on nights of meteor showers. Balderich loved to wish on shooting stars, and meteor showers were supposedly the luckiest night of the year. We had such good views of them from the castle!” He sighed, reminiscing. “How funny it is to look back, and wonder if he thought it was lucky because I was able to sit still and just be, for a moment.”

“The castle in Eichenwalde, right?” Siebren recalled, humming as he watched a shooting star pass by, burning into the atmosphere. “It’s terrible, what happened to so many of the world’s cities after the crisis.” He sighed. “I wonder how many generations will pass before they’ll be inhabited again?”

“Overwatch just wasn’t able to deal with rebuilding in that sense afterwards.” Reinhardt agreed, voice heavy. “I visited, recently, to pay respects to his grave. It’s so silly to be sad about, but everything’s frozen from where we had to retreat from the city, but it all has been slowly taken over by nature.

He sighed, quiet. “Frankly, I’m worried that we’re going to get to Zurich and find…parts of the base, exactly as I recall them. I know that much of the research part of the base managed to escape unharmed, hence why so many were able to get out, but…I also know that it will be almost exactly as it was that day when I arrived to help Angela and Torbjörn in emergency response. So many bodies, most of which we never found. So much wreckage and death, that the memorial isn’t close to the base, it’s in Geneva instead.”

“I wish you all luck in finding what you’re after there.” Siebren said, unsure of how to comfort Reinhardt, but knowing that aching feeling of going to a place you once knew, and finding it abandoned, hurt as much as going back to a place you once knew and finding it had abandoned you.

“Brigitte is quite frustrated with me.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “But her father and I both agreed that…it’s best she not see what we couldn’t help.”

“She’ll understand some day.” Siebren agreed, quiet. “Perhaps one day sooner than we’d like. Talon plans on repeating the experience that changed our lives, and seem to be intent on making that same change happen in her life.”

“Fareeha is already having that conversation with her, bless her.” Reinhardt said, putting a hand on his chest, shaking his head. “The kids today don’t know what it was like before, or during, or after. Not if you had the full context. It’s a strange thing to remember, that my hometown, my lover was long dead and gone and in the process of being forgotten by the time Brigitte was born.”

Siebren rested an understanding hand on his, and tentatively squeezed it, returning the subtle gesture of support Reinhardt had always extended to him.

Reinhardt turned to him, sky blue eye meeting stormy grey ones, and squeezed back, no words needing to be shared between two people who knew that same nostalgic grief, buried just under the skin, worn like every survivor of the Crisis who knew that there would be no going back, and there never could be to the things you never said goodbye to, and never could.

The past had long since flown out of their grasp, memories and imprints of it trapped in light flying deep into space.

The beauty of it was that light could always capture these new moments, as the gentle touch shifted into a comfortable handhold, as they turned their gazes back up toward the sky together.

XXXXX

It occurred to him the following day that he’d completely neglected to ask Moira about his finances, and he bonked his head against a hand as he went about the usual morning routine.

It was past time, he supposed, that he get answers directly from the people Reinhardt, Lúcio and Brigitte often deferred to. He felt his stomach drop at the idea of meeting with the illusive Dr. Ziegler, but figured that he might not have to do it alone.

Siebren rubbed his arms, and looked down at the floor, before he decided on at least donning a pair of socks in the spirit of decorum.

Lúcio hadn’t been kidding when he’d said that the breakfast crowd cleared out the fridge too easily. It was only the second real time he’d gotten a glimpse of how big the little community on base was. Mei was chatting with Winston, Sojourn, Echo and Lena avidly, her notes in front of her leading Siebren to think that perhaps it was about the plans to go into Zurich, though he wondered what insight an ecologist might have on the subject.

Lúcio was obviously cooking, the young man’s dreadlocks done up into a rather stylish bun as he slid around on smooth flooring in his own pair of socks. Brigitte was half asleep on the countertop, hair unbrushed and in a bun that had half fallen out from sleep. Baptiste was sipping coffee as he used the oven, seeming to be cooking with him if the way he nudged Lúcio after glancing at the clock said anything.

Fareeha had apparently opted for toast, sitting next to Brigitte with her own coffee, and beside her, Siebren noted after the young girl pulled herself onto the barstool, was Efi, looking all too young to be here, out of her depth even though Fareeha gently pushed a cup of what seemed to be tea in her direction.

Reinhardt and who he saw to be Engineer Lindholm were loud in the other room, the two engaging in what sounded like a friendly argument about some ‘nasty’ fish dish Reinhardt had accidentally swiped from the fridge, having thought it’d be tasty for breakfast.

It was also the first time he’d ever seen Genji without his headpiece on. The young man was quietly sipping from a mug, a voyeur against the wall just as Siebren was from the door, seeming to be enjoying the scene before him, eyes warm as he stared at Baptiste. Brown eyes met his as the younger man- terribly scarred, but it was rude to stare- quirked grey synthetic skin lips up at him. “It’s a bit crazy at first.” Genji admitted, obviously able to see that Siebren was a bit overwhelmed, leaning over and patting his arm quietly. “You do get used to it.”

“Oh,” Siebren said, unsure of how to respond. “Am I allowed to just…take whatever?” He asked, wanting to be sure when the people who seemed to be most in charge of his fate sat not too far away.

“Yes. I would have thought Lúcio or Brigitte would have already told you as much.” Genji said, interested. “Barring them, Reinhardt seems to have taken a shining to you.”

“They did, but…best to be certain.” He said, allowing himself to show a bit of his nervousness, even as he smiled. He sensed that, perhaps he and Genji had something in common, a certain strangeness to them. From his features, perhaps a certain shared history with medical doctors. It wasn’t that he was unfamiliar with cyborgs, but they were usually done for reasons that didn’t leave the scars visible on Genji’s face.

He hesitated, for a moment, before he sank back to earth, catching himself on the doorframe, giving himself more of the appearance of frailty that he wanted to lean into, to ask the sensitive question. “By…by any chance, do you think that the doctor…might have a cane?” A weaker question than the one he wanted to ask, but a reason to get a foot in the door.

Genji seemed surprised by the question, and looked down at his legs, before his eyes met Siebren’s again, softened into a bit of sympathy. “She should, yeah.” He agreed, quiet. “…Atrophy?” He guessed, and Siebren nodded, his face reddening. “I don’t know if she’s awake right now, but I’m a, heh, favorite visitor of the medical bay.” He joked, putting his mask back on his face as he finished his meal. “Lúcio, I’ll take dinner for tonight off your hands, wash my dishes.” He called in as he set the dishes down, and the younger man pumped his fist up, jumping up as Baptiste gave him a high five. The two of them seemed to be making two separate dishes, but obviously planned on sharing.

Siebren felt a strange sort of guilt for making Genji take the short straw, he remembered from the board last night, but Genji just gestured for him to follow. “I think the tools from my own physical therapy will be there still.” Genji said, conversationally, obviously picking up on the reason why Siebren had approached him of all people.

“I didn’t want to assume.” Siebren guiltily said. “But…frankly, I think the longer I’ve gone without meeting her, the more I don’t want to. But there are some things I need.” He mumbled, floating behind Genji.

“Mmm.” Genji hummed, obviously thinking of how to respond. “I knew many doctors in my time here, several of whom actively worked on me, or with me. Both Dr. Ziegler, and Dr. O’Deorain.” He said the first name a tad more favorably than the second. “If you’ve been okay under the care of Moira, who isn’t a medical doctor, then you will feel more than fine under the care of Angela.”

“Moira didn’t…she didn’t care for me, like that.” Siebren stumbled over the defense of his friend. “I don’t think I would have responded well if she had.” He rubbed his neck, quiet. “She just…treated me like a colleague, even when I was barely cognizant. It eventually worked.”

“Mm.” Genji said to that, stopping to let Siebren walk beside him. “To be fair, I also was not incredibly friendly to Angela when I first arrived to Overwatch. But she is a kind person, and deeply empathetic. It can be hard to stay mad at her, when her morals are so firm.”

“I just…haven’t seen her yet.” He said, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “Most medical doctors, just…they looked at me like I was…dangerous. A weapon.” He eventually managed to force himself to say, and Genji paused, turning the green visor to him, and removed the front piece, brown eyes impassioned.

“Angela will not treat you like that. Plenty of people did think of me like that in Overwatch before, including myself.” Genji explained, putting a hand over his. “Angela won’t see you as a weapon. She sees people as people.”

The two breathed out after the intense pause, Siebren not answering, his anxiety coiled in his throat, but they kept walking, Genji putting the mask back on.

“A logical understanding that someone will not hurt you, and the logical understanding that something else will, isn’t enough to change the heart sometimes when it knows the poison intimately.” Siebren eventually managed after a few false starts, and Genji paused, seeming to reflect on the words.

“I have the sinking suspicion that my master will enjoy talks with you.” Genji dryly commented.

They arrived back at the medical bay Siebren only half remembered from Moira breaking in with him. It’s just as dark now as it was then, but it's the biggest part of the facility that Siebren’s seen so far. It also seemed to be the best outfitted, pieces of it looking more technological than the kitchen or the living areas. This looked like it belonged to Overwatch.

“I used to be Angela’s favorite visitor.” Genji said, lightly as he rooted around in half-opened boxes, clearly removed from some sort of storage. “Unfortunately, in the 5 years since the shut down, some things were moved into other parts of the base. Winston has been helpful in tracking down things, but…” He dug down into a box, his legs off the floor from how far down he had gone in to dig. “Ahah, there.” He pulled back up, triumphant as he held up a metal cane, stretching it out, and then back down to a smaller size, before tossing it at Siebren.

“So, you've stopped being her favorite visitor?” Siebren asked, hearing the careful insinuation, and Genji hummed, thinking on that.

“She’s wonderful, but…time has changed us both. For the better, I think.” Genji admitted, soft. “What we had back then was…what I needed, at the time, but we both grew past it. We tried, at the beginning of this, but we’ve decided we’re better off friends.” He folded his arms. “It…happens. And we’ve been alright with that.”

“That’s awfully reasonable of you.” Siebren said, sympathetic as he tested out the cane, floating downwards. “Relationships are…tough. Romantic ones especially.” He agreed, giving an awkward smile. “I saw you eying up Baptiste. Ones like that don’t stay free long.”

Genji sputtered in shock, doing a double take as he stepped back. “I- Even if that was true, which, well, I was _not_ that obvious.” He denied in a surprisingly even voice for how flustered he seemed, the reaction seemingly knee jerk.

Siebren gave a sly smile, deciding to take a page out of Moira’s book, and play with the idea of his powers. _Don't mention it to Sombra, we like to watch her squirm._ “I can hear the music of the universe, and that includes the sounds of each person.” He closed his eyes, focused on Genji, light and airy woodwinds with a hint of synths behind it. “Woodwinds. Always sharp and precise. Something electronic playing underneath the tone, soft but not unnoticeable.” His face creased with his smile, deciding not to say anything else on the matter. Moira was correct, leaving such things to the imagination almost always yielded better conclusions than just giving up the answer.

Genji balked for a long moment, before nodding, slowly, accepting that. “That…makes a surprising amount of sense. You always seemed to have a sixth sense on the battlefield.”

“Seventh, if you count my spatial awareness of the gravity field immediately around me.” He joked, forcing himself to relax through the mention of Sigma, of his time as Sigma, but Genji seemed to take it well, noticing his effort and apparently taking note of it.

“What does Baptiste sound like?” Genji asked, seeming genuinely curious to find out now.

“He typically takes on some sort of drum, vivacious, strong, and steady percussion. A solid foundation to build on, like a beating heart, determined.” He focused on that, letting it reverberate in his mind, before breathing it out, being left with the solemn piano that was never far from his mind.

“And Reinhardt?” Genji asked, and Siebren chuckled, rubbing his neck.

“Brass, not unlike being next to a band’s tuba or trombone section. Loud, very loud. Boisterous and strong. Fortissimo.” He said quickly, and Genji nodded at that, taking it in easily.

“I don’t think I need magical space powers to pick that vibe up off him, but it does fit.” Genji said back, and Siebren snorted, shaking his head.

“He’s definitely got a… passionate presence.” Siebren agreed, bemused.

Genji seemed to pause, and breathed in carefully. “So.” He started, and Siebren detected the change in his tone and posture, and turned his head, eyes narrowing a bit in confusion and concern.

“So?” Siebren followed up, and Genji leaned his head from side to side.

“I might have heard from a few birdies that you had a concussion,” Genji said, innocently enough. “And that there was a broken cranial implant involved.”

Siebren’s stomach dropped, and he swallowed. “Yes, well, but Baptiste looked me over, and I am fine.” He gestured carefully, and Genji nodded quickly.

“Yes, I’m aware. I’d just…” He trailed off, perhaps thinking of how to phrase it. “I think I’d like to offer a more comprehensive check up, with someone else who has…skin in the game.” He rubbed his armor, the fact he had no visible skin not being missed by either of them. “You asked me about this for a reason, was my thought. And the hardest part for me was…actually coming in. You’re in. So I was going to offer to text Angela. Only if you’re okay with it.” He reassured, and Siebren waffled a bit.

“I…I can say no?” Siebren asked, and Genji nodded quickly.

“Yes, you don’t have to do this.” Genji agreed, moving forward. “But I know a few people here who think you should let her at least check on the status of that implant.”

He shifted midair, thinking hard on that. On the episode in the grocery store, being stuck in two times, almost losing himself there. He sank to the floor, cold familiar anxiety pooling in his feet and gut and dragging him down.

“I…suppose, I am already here.” He hesitantly said, and Genji breathed out.

“I’ll text Dr. Ziegler then.” Genji said, pulling out his phone. “We’ll make this quick, and by the time you’re done, Baptiste and Lúcio will be done with their breakfast dish competition.” He said, obviously trying to focus on what would happen after it.

Siebren appreciated it, sitting down on the medical table, moving a couple of boxes away by nudging them with his feet. Genji sat down as well, seeming all right with keeping him company.

His hands trembled slightly, worried that his anxiety was going to force him to leave before they trapped him, but no straps were brought out, no chains or needles or shocks or any other part of the parade of horribles. Genji just removed his mask, and nodded at him in solidarity.

“So, Reinhardt, hm?” He asked, and burst Siebren out of his anxious bubble with a stab of embarrassment.

“I think, perhaps.” He said, flushed, hands balled up on the edge of his shirt. “It’s…a nice thought, certainly.” Siebren finished that sentence with a smile, and breathed, shaking a bit. “Thank you, for…sticking around. You…you will, won’t you? And there won’t be any…restraining?”

“There won’t be any restraints. I’ll stay put.” Genji promised, quiet. “Put in a good word for me with Baptiste, and I’ll call us even.” He teased, and Siebren again gave a nervous laugh.

Dr. Ziegler wasn’t even the presence she’d been on the battlefield when she finally arrived. She’d apparently had the sense to not wear the white coat, instead dressed a lot like Siebren himself, a black turtleneck and stylish pants. She held up her hands as she entered, to show that she meant no harm.

“Hello, Dr. De Kuiper. May I call you Siebren?” She asked, voice soft, kind enough, and Siebren hesitantly nodded. “Alright. I know you’re nervous. I’ll make this quick.” She said, gesturing up at his scab. “I’d like to perform a physical, and only other thing is I would like to do tests on the broken implant. Will that be alright?”

“I…” He hesitated, licking his lips. “I suppose so.” He agreed, grey eyes wide as his hands shook, feeling like he was floating out of his body. But he could do this. He could stay put. It’d be all right, and then he’d be back with the others.

However, Angela didn’t take a step forward. She frowned, putting her hand on his. “Siebren.” She said, quiet. “We don't have to do this right now.”

“But I should.” He said, barely containing his whine, the trapped one in his chest. “It needs to get done with.”

“It’s not hurting you right now, right?” She asked, squeezing his hand. He shook his head frantically, denying that it hurt. “It’s alright to not be ready yet. It’s not bothering you, meaning that while I’d like to get a better look at it, you’re not in any immediate danger.”

“So, so I can go?” He stuttered, and Angela nodded.

“The doors are open if you need something.” She stressed to him. “But you can go. I would not force a check up on you when you’re obviously so scared.” Angela soothed.

“I…I think I will, then.” He breathed out, holding tight to his new cane. “Thank you, for the cane.”

“Of course, Siebren.” She nodded. “Whatever you need, when you’re ready.” She promised, before backing up to give him extra space.

“Thank you, Genji, but…I can’t.” He weakly said, floating upwards. “Not… not right now. Thank you both for, for trying. But…I _can’t_.” He held himself, heading to the door.

“It’s alright.” Genji said, kindly. “You don’t have to.”

Angela nodded again, and moved out of his way entirely. “Let me know if you would like to try at some point.” She said, leaving the option there for him, and Siebren nodded, jerkily heading towards the door, breathing a struggle, disbelief and anxiety playing together in his mind as they just let him go.

Neither of them stopped him, and Siebren didn’t stop until he made it back to the kitchen.

Thankfully, it seemed that the kitchen and living area had cleared out by the time he got back.

He must have been in a state, since Reinhardt’s expression shifted from jovial to worried at the sight of him. Siebren didn’t stop until he’d careened into the couch, sitting next to Reinhardt.

“Siebren?” He asked, and Siebren found that, at that time, he had no more words. No jokes to make. No use to have. He trembled, and shook, and he felt every one of those years of isolation and torture reverberate in his core, shouting at his every thought that it had to be some sick game, some trick the doctor was performing because doctors had failed him, failed him.

He lay still against the couch, honestly feeling a bit numb, but at the same time, his brain working overtime as he went over it again, and again. She hadn’t even tried to do anything. Hadn’t forced the issue.

He was not aware of it, but the room around him was responding to the chaotic pulsing inside of him, objects suspended midair as he walked past them, freeing themselves from the earths gravity as he walked past, before finding their ways back down to where they’d been seated.

He could feel something deep within him shaking and shuddering, that aching dread that creeped up his spine, the itch in the back of his mind when he’d known something was off.

It felt like… something- like Sigma, giving the thing the name it had been assigned- was trying to figure out this new scenario, and it was failing, and twisting around inside of him like a beast too big underneath the skin, his skin.

A hand went to his broken implant, and caressed the skin around it, feeling that it was frankly, a bit warm for his liking.

Reinhardt paused, concerned, a stronger hand going to his weak, quivering one. “Alright.” He said, quietly, and the two moved at the same time. Reinhardt pulling him in, and Siebren rocking forward into his space, gravity pulling them together. “When you’re ready, let me know.” Reinhardt said, and Siebren nodded again, closing his eyes and centering himself on the fact he was safe, he was free, and he was around people who could protect him, even as that dread coiled and burst and fought his desire for peace.

Siebren could ride this out, he just, he had to face it, really face it, and not run from it.

 _It’s okay,_ he reached out to that writhing ball of terror and emotion within him, _we are not alone anymore._

It rebelled against that thought, because it had only ever known hurt and fear and putting those back into others in return, and Siebren felt, distantly, Reinhardt squeeze his body, hugging him with one arm in a silent show of support.

 _You did enough,_ Siebren told himself. _It’s alright. What you did, it was enough. I’m okay, we’re okay, we’re not alone anymore. We’re safe._

Safety and isolation were the same. Others hurt, others could always hurt, pushing others away, making them pay for what happened, freedom and imprisonment were sometimes the same. The fretfulness pulled at him, trying to tear him open, and he had to hold it together, closing his eyes as his breath hitched. The isolation of his prison the isolation on the moon, others being ready to kill him wouldn’t it be best if he prevented by preemptive action? If no one was close, no one could hurt him.

A gentle hand went down his neck to better hold him, as Reinhardt’s warm embrace fought against the sense of the cold void encroaching around him.

Siebren took back the reins from the anxiety, from where Sigma fought against him, fought against Siebren’s judgment with its own flawed understanding of the world.

 _No one could love us either_ , Siebren told it firmly. _I want to be loved; I want to be known, to be seen and be loved. And we can be._

Sigma trembled, but it began to unfurl in his chest, Siebren holding it and knowing it, seeing it and loving it. It had worked so hard, it had kept him safe. But it was also time to take the next step in recovery, and this deep-set fear couldn’t help him where he was going.

When Siebren opened his eyes, he felt raw, but the anxiety that had been eating his core had calmed, and he felt Reinhardt beside him, waiting for the storm to pass. He breathed out, and the metaphorical skies cleared. “Thank you.” He said aloud to it and to Reinhardt, wiping wetness from his eyes. “I’m…alright now.”

Reinhardt began to pull away. “Good, I’m glad. You worried me.” He said, concern on his face that was fading into a smile, and Siebren laid a hand on Reinhardt’s.

“You don’t have to…pull away. If you don’t want to.” Siebren said, tentative. “I…like it, when you’re near, when you…hold me.” The words made him cringe a bit, at their earnestness, their honest simplicity.

Reinhardt gave pause, eyes widening a bit. “Oh.” He said, before a knowing glint was in his eyes. “Is that so?” He said, as he interlocked their fingers.

“I think it is,” He agreed, nervous. “I hope that, maybe, you might feel the same?”

“I think I might.” Reinhardt hummed, settling back into the couch with him, wrapping a more casual arm around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finally, the start of something new with them both! 2 more chapters to mess around with.
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Ik that some of the pairings in here might not b to everyones taste, but I feel like giving characters sometimes many ex partners, "it's complicated" statuses, and crushes does wonders to expand characters. Hopefully it doesnt bother people too much, Ik some of them are very divisive.
> 
> Moira and Gabriel are in a bind, the majority of the team's about to head out to Zurich, and Siebren is starting to really recover now, mentally, from where he'd been.
> 
> What can go wrong?


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, yall! Glad to see this is still getting attention! Hopefully yall enjoy this update. Some soft stuff, some hard stuff, and we're almost done. This chapter and the one before it both wound up being a lot longer than I anticipated, but, it is what it is. I realized I never actually updated tags so, tag dump. Oops.

It really said something about Reinhardt that he took Siebren's come on so well. His character was stellar, pun fully intended, and he was honest, and kind. Knightly, even.

It felt strange to acknowledge it, but Siebren felt like…perhaps, Reinhardt felt the same about him. That strange mushy feeling towards another person who was there with you wasn't exactly Siebren's strong suit. But it might have been wrong to think it was Reinhardt's.

At Reinhardt's suggestion, the two wound up in the training pool, obviously a vestige of when Watchpoint: Gibraltar had been a major hub for space travel and similar experiments. Siebren wasn't one to turn down the opportunity to ogle a handsome, muscular man, but strangely, he found himself equally ogled.

The reason why became apparent the second Lúcio came into the room and whistled. He'd changed into the swimsuit Reinhardt had provided, and dropped the towel, embarrassed, quickly jumping into the water, letting the feeling wash over him.

"Whoa! Doc, those are some killer arms you have going on there!" He said appreciatively. "Use me as a weight _anytime_."

"Lúcio!" Brigitte said, bright red, Fareeha coming in behind her, snorting at the younger girls embarrassment.

"Reinhardt said he turned on the pool's heaters. Meaning, pool day." Lena chirpily said as she came in behind her, stretching. "I haven't been in there in a while! Though, we don't have to do it in the pool, considering the beach is right there."

"Nah, the pool works great." Lúcio waved a casual hand, before cannonballing into the water, splashing Siebren in the process. Moments later, he came up for air, and grinned at Siebren, obviously having intended to do that. "No one's gonna be asking for autographs here." Siebren agreed, but for an entirely different reason- no one to stress out about watching him.

"Oh, you're going to regret challenging me!" Reinhardt said, and Brigitte tellingly backed away from the edge of the water, as the large man took a running start and shouted, "CANNONBALL!"

Siebren, thankfully, had the foresight of dipping beneath the water, and yet, felt the impact push him backwards in space.

Lúcio sputtered on the surface, having completely been splashed, Tracer staring agape at the large man as Brigitte groaned, sitting down on the side of the water. "I swear, Reinhardt, every time." She bemoaned, and Reinhardt looked at Siebren with a massive grin on his face.

"Anyone else joining us, Lena?" Lúcio asked, bright, and she shook her head.

"No, too many preparations for tomorrow." She disagreed. "Even Fareeha and I will have to leave in a bit. Reinhardt's not bringing a whole lot." She teased the older man, who gave an affronted gasp.

"I beg your pardon, rookie!" He said, treading water. "All I require for this mission is my armor! It is hardly the same amount of work as setting up the emergency flight systems and rescue plans as others have been assigned."

"I can't believe we're not going." Brigitte said, and Lúcio nodded, sighing.

"Someone has to stay here, in case something happens to us on route!" Lena explained cheerily, smile bright. "Talon's been trying to get into Zurich for a while. We're already over prepared by bringing along the majority of us, but if something goes wrong, someone else has to be ready to send in help."

"Plus," Reinhardt said, dampening slightly. "Someone has to stay with our…guests."

Siebren didn't take it personally that he wasn't considered a viable option for that, especially considering that he had visited them not even 24 hours ago without anyone else's knowledge.

"And Efi shouldn't see that." Fareeha nudged her friend gently. "Brigitte, I know how you feel. You're a capable agent, but we can't bring everyone on this mission. Mei volunteered to swap places with you, but we need her mountaineering and survivalist experience. There will be others in the future."

Ah, so that was why Mei had been talking to Lena and Winston the other day.

"Hopefully, after a few days out in the mountains, we get a successful link established between the two bases, and we can actually have more in depth missions to Zurich." Lena finished.

Siebren sank into the water, and sighed, blowing bubbles, before he began swimming, feeling his legs working harder than his arms and frowning at the sensation. He knew that he wasn't necessarily useful to these conversations, considering he wasn't allowed to go, but to have what he'd interpreted as a date hijacked by yet more discussion of the coming plans.

Well, he'd said that he'd wanted to work on his legs, so he figured that this would be a starting point. Siebren tuned out the discussion, and got to work.

He'd of course done copious amounts of swim training when he'd been preparing to go into space. It felt strange, now, to have some form of gravity returned to him when he'd gotten used to the weightlessness that surrounded him without much thought at all. Actually, the more he thought about it, the more he wondered why Moira hadn't suggested swimming as physical therapy. Then again, the more he thought about his time in Oasis, the woman had had a lot on her plate.

In the meantime, he kept going, falling into muscle memory after a couple minutes.

The pool was large, and it seemed that he could take a lane at one end and enjoy the exercise while the rest of them enjoyed each other's company.

He was only able to go for about 20 minutes, before he knew that his legs were going to have something to say about this later. He got to the edge of the pool, and got out, floating into the air to avoid the telltale wet foot patter. He felt a little silly now, honestly, reflecting back on it, his face and neck warm, and surely red. It was wishful thinking. He was a former agent of the very group Reinhardt was seeking to defeat. At best, they'd be friends. Reinhardt wasn't a stranger to physical affection, he'd seen as much when he'd seen the man on the couch surrounded by the other members of Overwatch.

He'd been offering friendship and companionship. That was all.

He made his way back to his quarters to shower and change, honestly feeling rather stupid now. Siebren looked himself in the mirror, and knew he'd overthought it and was now hurt at the overthinking.

What was there to like about Siebren? He was a mentally unstable older man, a science experiment gone wrong- an eccentric who spoke too much about too little; all familiar self-hatred given new forms. Old feelings about being an autistic man now given new life in the form of being a psychologically broken lab rat.

He turned on the water as hot as it would go, and climbed in after turning away from his reflection, a sad mirror of his reality. So many years gone from his life, so few opportunities in front of him. He would have to get his act together, since it would be unfair to take out these turbulent emotions on Reinhardt, the man simply being a good friend, not responsible for Siebren reading far too much into their interaction.

And when Siebren cried, even he couldn't tell apart from having sore teeth, tears mixed with the hot water against his skin.

XXXXX

Siebren decided that, since he hadn't eaten breakfast, he'd have a late lunch and would avoid dinner. It was a decent plan. He'd have a bit more time to school his reactions to Reinhardt, some hurt panging in him- but his feelings were his own problem.

He couldn't solve anything else about his situation. But he could keep that under control. He had to.

More cautiously than he can recall doing any of the past couple days, he went into the kitchen area, and quietly got himself some food. The beauty of the day was that everyone was busy working, and the rest of the group should still be in the pool. He felt that bitter pill, and he swallowed it hard.

His feelings shouldn't make others uncomfortable, and he was superfluous to that meeting. If he'd been a more capable person, he could have gotten himself under regulation and moved on. However, now he'd need to give the issue space so as not to cause undue tension.

The kitchen was blessedly empty, and he went straight to the fridge, looking through it for something quick to eat. Thankfully, there were some obvious leftovers from what Lúcio and Baptiste had made for breakfast, and he snagged them out, putting them on a plate, and putting it into the microwave to heat up, feeling out of place, out of sorts.

After only a couple minutes, he popped the food out, and drifted to the couch, curling up beside the arm, turning on the TV to fill the silence, eating Lúcio and Baptiste's food, realizing that they weren't bad at cooking at all.

He ate slowly, thoughtfully, staring inwards instead of paying attention to the TV.

"Oh my god, I cannot _believe_ Reinhardt," Fareeha's voice was audible from the kitchen.

"I didn't want to say anything," Lena spoke up too, seeming sad. "He's just trying to include everyone."

It felt like a gut punch, listening to that. Siebren decided to avoid saying anything. When it became clear they were going to come in here, he panicked, before eying the tall ceilings in desperation, and realizing he wasn't as trapped as he'd thought.

"Still, come on. It was a little stupid of him." Fareeha commented as she walked into the living area, shaking her head as he floated overhead.

"Incredibly stupid." Lena agreed. "But I've certainly made that mistake before. It's hard, you know? He doesn't want to make someone uncomfortable." She paused, looking around, as Siebren floated out of the room, keeping to the ceilings. "Hey, who left the TV on?"

"Probably someone who just ate, Lena." Fareeha pointed out, shaking her head. "I should have encouraged us to come back later. Ugh. If Brigitte hasn't figured it out by now, she's going to be feeling just as dumb later."

Rather than make any noise by washing his dishes, and not wanting to make a mess either by leaving them, he floated back to the ground, making a beeline back to his room, shame running hot through him.

He just wasn't going to catch a break, it seemed, when he found Reinhardt at his door, knocking on it politely. "Siebren?" The other man called in, and Siebren felt his anxiety spike, the food on his plate starting to float off it, other objects beginning to float as well.

That included Reinhardt's shirt, and the man paused, apparently confused, before he turned and located his quarry. "There you are! I wondered where you ran off to." He said, seeming embarrassed, taking a step towards Siebren. Siebren unconsciously matched this by floating backwards, spooked.

Reinhardt's face furrowed, and Siebren swallowed his emotions, trying to quell his anxiety, trying to force his gravity field out of existence, before he felt his feet go to the ground, and his food hit the plate. He caught himself on the wall, focusing on the feeling of it against his fingertips. It was alright. Reinhardt did nothing wrong, he tried to reassure himself. He was just being friendly, including Siebren in it. Others probably weren't ready for him; faking friendliness was probably the limit they could truly give him. He'd be alright with that- it was more than many of his old colleagues in space had bothered with.

"I just got tired," He said, quickly. "My legs aren't what they used to be." He had to hold it together, he couldn't afford this sort of emotion, not when his emotions were spelled out to the world in his powers, not when he was a grown man. "Sorry for leaving unannounced, I didn't want to interrupt your pool party with the others by being worn out."

Reinhardt's brow remained furrowed, though, as Siebren went through his mind, wondering if that had been passive aggressive, he was trying to remove any blame from Reinhardt, not wanting to insult his kindness.

His hand shook against the plate, the other grappling with the wall for support as overworked legs fought against him.

Freak. Weakling. Old deprecating thoughts weren't far, and matched by new ones. Aberration. Failure.

"Siebren," Reinhardt said, seeming confused and a bit concerned. "I invited you out, not them. I just told them that I'd be turning on the pool's heating equipment, and we'd be there."

A new terror went through him, at realizing he'd left Reinhardt there without saying anything at all, and his emotional turbulence was visible and seen and Reinhardt was there, seeing it. Being stupid for bothering with something like him. Siebren wasn't good at this. He never had been. Not good at people, not good for people. Eccentric, odd, dodgy, dangerous. All synonyms for bad in some way.

"Oh, well." He said, feeling light in his skin, like he could float away. He supposed he could. "I'm sorry, Reinhardt. You looked like you were having fun, I didn't feel like being a bother."

"You're not being a bother, though." Reinhardt said, shaking his head. "I wanted to spend time with you, Siebren. I just…I don't want to move too fast for you." Reinhardt said, quietly. "Listen…I'm not good at this." He admitted, and that hit Siebren hard.

"What? No, you're excellent at people." Siebren disagreed instantly. "You always seem to know what to say, what to do. People love you."

Reinhardt moved forward, shaking his head. "I'm big, and loud. People enjoy my company, and yet, when I try to be…soft, and careful, it feels like a bull in a china shop," He chuckled, shaking his head. "And I'm trying to be soft and careful."

Those two things did seem a little antithetical to the German man, but Siebren didn't understand. "You're an excellent friend, probably a better one than I deserve," He said, trying to find the words that would make Reinhardt feel better. "I'm the one overthinking things, and overcomplicating them. You were having a good time, I didn't want to interrupt it."

"I wanted to have a good time with you, Siebren." Reinhardt said, taking ahold of his hand, giving him a better balancing point than the wall. "You said you liked it when I was close. I want to be close too, Siebren." He said, carefully running thick fingers over Siebren's own long ones. "I just…I don't want to hurt you, or frighten you. You've been through a lot, and I don't want to be pressuring you too soon. I always have rushed into things without thinking." As Reinhardt's words hit him, understanding started to flow through Siebren, and again, the anxiety in him began to unfurl, as Siebren locked their fingers together.

"You don't scare me, Reinhardt." Siebren said, realizing that, perhaps, he'd been overthinking the wrong thing. "I'm… I won't break," He rubbed his thumb against Reinhardt's hand, thoughtfully. "I was just thinking that, I'd been overthinking it and had seen something where there was nothing. Scientists can see patterns where there are none simply because they're too eager to see them, so, if you feel something, if you want something from me, please, just let me know so that I," He was cut off.

Reinhardt caught him in a passionate kiss, and Siebren melted into it, letting his plate be caught by the euphoric gravity field around him as he kissed back, wrapping his arms around Reinhardt's middle as Reinhardt wrapped his strong arms around him in turn.

They pulled away from each other moments later, and Siebren gave an awkward chuckle, wiping away an errant tear. "Well, there's my answer, I suppose." He said quietly, and Reinhardt nodded, the two hovering just above the ground.

"Is that alright?" He asked, and Siebren nodded slowly, putting his head against Reinhardt's chest, the wet clothes the man in hardly bothering him, Reinhardt's hand applying gentle pressure against his back.

"Yes, yes it is." He confirmed.

XXXXX

The rest of the day was surprisingly enjoyable. After Reinhardt showered and got properly dressed back up as well, the two of them went back out to the group, where there was certainly more people in the hanger then there had been in the living area, in various stages of packing and stressed, getting their gear checked by Mei.

"Hey, Siebren." Baptiste called. "Mind floating a few things into the ship?" He asked, and he looked to Reinhardt, the man having found Torbjörn and the two chatting about tomorrow's plans, before shrugging.

"I see no harm in it." He agreed, flexing his capabilities outwards to assist loading. The boxes that Baptiste had asked he place in the hanger weren't hard to get moving, but the process of purposefully placing them was slightly more difficult than first anticipated. However, after a few runs, the process got much easier, and with Echo flying with his boxes to make minor adjustments, the remainder was placed in the ship without much difficulty.

"Not bad." Winston said appreciatively. "Your powers definitely will be a huge help in the future."

"Oh," He rubbed his neck, awkward. "I'm trying to do something with myself. Sitting on my hands hasn't been very interesting."

"I know." Winston said, apologetic. "After this mission, we'll see about integrating you into the roster more permanently. We've just not had time, with the amount of resources going into this particular effort."

"I understand, Winston." He said with a smile. "An old man being a little bored is hardly the end of the world."

Brigitte apparently spotted Reinhardt, and looked at him with huge eyes. "You asked Siebren out and then invited a bunch of us onto your date?!" She said, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Date?" Torbjörn said, raising an eyebrow. "It's about time you giant oaf. You've only been watching him for the past several months. Then he's put in Overwatch on a silver platter, he actually gets along with you- god only knows why- and you get cold feet?"

Reinhardt's face was surprisingly red as Siebren approached the group, realizing that they were giving Reinhardt a hard time about…not asking him out?

Tracer and Fareeha's conversation suddenly came back to mind, as did Brigitte and Fareeha's.

They'd been trying to set them up together. As a couple.

Siebren went red, and Reinhardt harrumphed. "What was that? I cannot hear someone from all the way down there."

"That lack of oxygen has been getting to your brain, then!" Torbjörn said tartly, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Anyways, Brigitte, I was just trying to give Siebren a way out! I realized he never actually made a romantic come on, he was giving me permission to be touchy-feely with him, I'd never asked!" He defended himself.

"Trust me, Reinhardt, if he'd been upset about you touching him, he would have told you." Torbjörn reminded sharply.

"Awh, he was asking you out?" Brigitte said, affection in her voice. "That's so sweet. Did you get it resolved?"

"I like to think we did." Siebren said, breaking up the conversation, waving at Brigitte and then giving a hand to Torbjörn. "Dr. Lindholm, a pleasure to finally meet."

Torbjörn took the hand, embarrassment quickly replaced by some respect at being recognized. "Of course, Dr. De Kuiper. The guild was terribly sad to see you give your talents to space, and again saddened to hear about your demise, however wrong they were." He said, gruffly.

"You two _know_ each other?" Brigitte stammered, and Torbjörn made a waving gesture with his claw arm.

"To a degree," Siebren explained, quiet. "The Ironclad guild is a respected group of engineers, famous in Europe. I'd be a silly scientist indeed to have never heard of their work. And of course, the Lindholm name was commonly brought up in circles, too. For good and bad reasons. Actually, he tried to recruit me into Overwatch's R&D, but Lucheng got me first, and could actually get me into space!" He laughed at the memory, shaking his head.

"And De Kuiper, while known for good and bad reasons, was a genius in his own right. Some of his work was key for later weapons we used in the Crisis itself, Brigitte."

"So we'd spoken before, usually over secure communication lines, but never in person." Siebren finished, shaking his head. "I was unsure if you'd remember me, seeing as it's been well over a decade since my disappearance."

"I have a long memory." Torbjörn patted his hand, and the two separated. "Take care of the big oaf for me, will you? I've got a soft spot somewhere, probably from one too many accidental hammer strikes."

"Torby," Reinhardt said, embarrassed, and the shorter man roughly shoved him, hardly even making the man stumble.

"I'll be sure to remember that," Siebren said with a chuckle, shaking his head affectionately, feeling, suddenly, that he really was starting to have a place here.

XXXXX

The main group left in the morning, and things were shockingly calm. The base had been quiet before, but this was almost eerie with only the 5 of them. Efi and Orisa wound up wanting to do some shopping in the main strip, and Lúcio seemed fine to let them go out on their own.

It was edging towards the end of the day when things suddenly went as horribly wrong as Siebren had ever dared to think about.

The three of them were sitting in the lounge, watching a movie, when Athena spoke over the loudspeaker. "Attention agents," She said, voice a bit distracted. "Something is happening outside, my sensors are detecting unauthorized aircraft."

Lúcio got up, and Brigitte followed. Siebren swallowed, thickly, thinking back to the promise he made to Winston. Nothing would happen to those kids, he told himself. "Let's go find out what it is." Lúcio said, voice a bit shaken.

The three of them walked together, and Siebren was finally, finally allowed into what appeared to be the center of operations. Computers and screens were everywhere, and there was a massive symbol over Zurich, obviously the target of their mission.

"Athena," Brigitte called. "Can you show us the outside?" She asked, and Athena quickly replaced the map with an image of the exterior of the base. Siebren quickly recognized his stargazing spot, and then, worse, a Talon aircraft.

"What? Why are they here now?" Brigitte questioned, as Lúcio shook his head.

"Athena, can you contact Winston or Lena?"

"I'm afraid that their comms are offline at the moment. They haven't yet made contact from Zurich." She said simply. "I'll broadcast the emergency distress signal to all active agents."

"Siebren," Moira appeared out of the ether, grabbing ahold of his arm. "We're in trouble."

"Yes, these two were just showing me." Siebren said quickly, forgetting that the two younger members had no idea that Gabriel and Moira weren't actually imprisoned.

"How the _fuck_ did you get out?" Lúcio asked, stressed, turning to Siebren with a degree of confusion, suspicion, and Siebren had to fight back some hurt, shaking his head to deny the unspoken accusation.

"Does that matter right now, kid?" Gabriel asked as he reformed from smoke, gesturing to the screens. "Talon's here. They're attacking the base. From what Moira said, the base doesn't have the amount of staff it should."

"Why are they even _here_?" Brigitte asked again, staring at the screen, shock forcing her to accept Moira and Gabriel's sudden appearance. "Winston was convinced that they'd attempt to intercept them in Zurich.

"They're here to collect us. Gabriel and Siebren, and depending on how much Lacroix and Sombra told, potentially to kill me as well." Moira frowned, Gabriel and her supporting each other, two shadows overlapped, a violin and a viola playing the same notes. "A few mice can be let out of the cage, but some were too special." Moira spat out that last word like it was poison. "That kind of loss would be unacceptable. I tried to only help Siebren escape, but now that Gabriel is free too, well. This wasn't unexpected."

"Who all is here to defend the base?" Gabriel asked, face settling into something extremely human, scarred and worn, but human through and through. The man Siebren had known here and there apparent in the effort.

"They, most of them went to Zurich because they thought it'd be dangerous." Brigitte said, licking her lips, looking to Siebren for some sort of assistance.

"So, are we it?" Moira asked dryly, rubbing her face with one hand. "Grand. We've got Siebren, Lúcio, and the Lindholm."

"Brigitte." She said, voice relatively flat, her stress obvious. "And we got separated from Orisa and Efi. They went shopping today."

"Report," Gabriel ordered and Moira sat up fully, shaking her head to clear it.

"So, you're without your equipment, as am I. We're both relatively injured, so I'd put our effectiveness together at perhaps…around 50% of our full strength." Moira elaborated. "Siebren, while mild mannered, is a good asset. Worth 2 of me if he fully uses his power, he'll have to be enough to cover your weaknesses. Brigitte is Reinhardt's ally; she's a decent fighter. Lúcio is also a decent fighter; he uses sonar technology on the battlefield. Hard sound hurts, surprisingly. He has medical training, and as I am without my gear, I believe between Brigitte and Lúcio, we have both the ninja and what remains of my role."

"That leaves us without Jesse," Gabriel nudged, and Moira shrugged, haughty.

"I think that Lúcio can be enough, and without half the baggage." Moira finished, huffing.

"We're going to have to fight," Gabriel tried to start a pep talk, but was interrupted.

"We've been fighting for a long time." Lúcio cut in, shaking her head. "I've fought you before, Reaper. Brigitte and I have got this."

Moira put her finger up. "Lúcio, you're quite right in that you've fought us before, but have you considered that Gabriel wasn't _interested_ in killing you?" She put forth, quiet. "There were times, certainly, he's been sent to kill various members, but sometimes there was enough of him that he aims for the back instead of the head." She frowned, rubbing her hands together. "These members of Talon aren't here for you. They're here for Siebren, and Gabriel. And likely to kill me. If we don't manage to kill you, they might just distract you and take what they're really here for."

"Siebren and Gabriel." Lúcio repeated her words, and Moira nodded, shuddering as she shook herself out. "I don't trust you."

"I don't expect you to." Moira said, closing her eyes. "My choices were my own, and the path I have sent myself down was dark, deadly, and misguided. I risked myself already, to free Siebren." She spoke, firmly. "If you don't trust me about anything else, trust that I _want_ Siebren free." She shook her head, determination growing. "They'll never make me take apart someone I care about again. I will not be self-defeating."

Brigitte and Lúcio waffled at that, Moira obviously having a point. She'd put herself into harm's way with Talon specifically. She'd gotten captured so that Siebren could have a life.

"Both of you," Siebren started, awkward. "I've…I've worked with them before. I trust them. I don't want either of you to end up hurt. I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you."

"And frankly, if Talon gets their hands on Siebren, he'll never care about anything again." She said, face serious. "Doomfist likes ambition, not mutiny. While your weapons were helpful, your status as a weapon outweighs that. Korpal has been nibbling at my heels for _years_. With Sigma as his centerpiece, he'd be unstoppable."

"Korpal?" Lúcio asked, and Moira gave him an odd look, as Siebren battled that horrible nauseous feeling at her words.

"Right. You must not be aware of who all is on the council." Moira said, sinking slightly. "Korpal is a Council member. It is how Vishkar manages to make so many deals with governments. He knows how to put pressure on them, produce the right money at the right time to secure power."

"Korpal, Maximilien, Ogundimu," Reyes listed off. "Commander McManaway, who's presently the Secretary of Defense in the US. An ex-Overwatch Lieutenant who's face I've forgotten. One of Deadlock's fallen leaders. Myself, Moira. Talon had already lost 6 leaders. Now they're down two more. Ogundimu's probably in a state, having lost his major alliance."

"Maximilien I'm sure is now wiggling underneath someone else like the worm he is." Moira agreed with a disgusted noise, shaking her head.

"Hold up." Lúcio said, thinking here, looking obviously distressed. "Vishkar, and Talon," He put the two together, and Moira nodded slowly.

"There are no major organizations in this whole world that some aspect of Talon hasn't wormed its way into, or has tried to worm its way into." Reyes said, putting a hand on Lúcio. "It's not your fault, kid. If anything, it's mine. My generation failed you. We thought we were saving the world, we were just building a house of cards." He coughed, and Moira put a hand on his shoulder, supportive.

"We need to get to the internal security systems." Moira said, suggesting a plan of action. "The longer we can hold out here, the better off we'll be when we wind up having to hole up in the Blackwatch Keep, and the less likely it'll be that they'll have the time to set up bombs."

"I survived one base's destruction. Let's not make it two." He clapped Lúcio's shoulder, standing back at his full height

The two of them moved together, but Brigitte and Lúcio didn't move to follow. Siebren was caught between them. On the one hand, Moira and Reyes obviously had a plan. On the other…

"We know one thing, we can't stay here." Siebren said, firmly, if softly, to Brigitte. "I won't let anything happen to you two if I can help it. I made that promise already. They're…complicated, but they have a better knowledge of this base than you two do."

Brigitte took Lúcio's hand, holding it tightly. "If something does happen, Siebren." She said, a variety of emotions warring in her expression. "I hope you've not lied to us."

"Let's move." Lúcio said, and Siebren nodded, something echoing inside him, that was some form of bitterness at being doubted, even now.

"Execute Blackwatch code, 24-10394, Minerva." Moira said sharply as she moved into the suite, and the lights went red instead of blue, dimming accordingly.

"Welcome back, Agent O'Deorain, Commander Reyes." Minerva said, calmly. "Executing lockout sequence 394."

"Bring up the outer cameras." Reyes commanded, falling into a chair, the holoscreen popping up with the Blackwatch logo. "Minerva, do you have a location on Agent Orisa?"

"Agent Orisa is presently on the grounds with Civilian Agent Odalede. Proceed with lockout?" Lúcio cursed, as the camera feeds showed off the various cameras either being smashed, or where they were unreachable, shot out. The ones that were missed showed Talon agents crawling the grounds.

"No." Moira said, shaking her head. "Hold lockout order. Proceed with security protocol 912 in the meantime. Someone has to go get her."

"All unnecessary access points have been locked." Minerva informed. "Agent Orisa has been met with fire from the intruders."

"Fuck." Brigitte said, sharply, stressed out. "How are we going to rescue her, there are too many of them."

"Moira, we have a problem." Reyes said, as one of the camera feeds focused on a man in a blue uniform, staring up at them.

"Hello, Lúcio," The man said, politely, as though he hadn't started the invasion and destruction of the base. "I truly wish it didn't have to come to this. Your father was a loyal employee of Vishkar, who understood our vision. It is a pity that his son does not share his sight."

"Korpal." Reyes growled, and Moira put a hand on his shoulder, Lúcio's back stock straight as he swallowed thickly.

"Vishkar scum." He agreed with Reyes. "Put me on. If he wants to talk, let me talk."

"Minerva, access loudspeaker 14." Moira said, and handed Lúcio the microphone.

"I should have known you'd be allied with Talon." Lúcio said, calmly, eyes fixed on the cameras, as Siebren and Brigitte looked through the feed for Efi and Orisa's location, quietly as possible. "What do you want?"

"A trade." Korpal said, dipping his head slightly. "Overwatch must have been trickier than expected, if they managed to capture Reyes' entire strike team."

"Entire?" Moira paused, standing up, putting a hand over her mouth as she thought that over.

"Or you guys just weren't as good as you thought. I would have imagined you goons would have told them all the times _I've_ sent you running in circles by myself. Let me guess. You want them, but what do we get in return?"

"I think 5 lives for 5 lives and the continued survival of your base is more than a satisfactory deal." Korpal said, and Lúcio's eyes widened as Moira pressed the button to mute the microphone.

"Widowmaker and Sombra didn't return to Talon," She said, shocked. "They don't know we betrayed them, Reyes."

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Reyes said, his fangs obvious in his growing smile.

"Of course." She said, none too smug. "But it will only work once- we'll have to make the most out of the surprise. Lúcio, tell him the trade's on. Siebren and myself, for Orisa and Efi's safe passage."

"Wait, what are you suggesting?" Lúcio paused, looking at his mistrustfully, and Moira let out a dramatic sigh.

"I'm suggesting we get the other two in with us, and we take out a significant portion of Talon's troops. They believe you're holding us all prisoner; Sombra, Widowmaker, Reyes, myself, and Siebren." She leaned in, conspiratorially. "So you pretend to hand off the equivalent to Efi and Orisa. You wouldn't want to release Reyes, he's too dangerous. Siebren, while equally dangerous, is a bit more…controllable." She elaborated, thoughtful. "Widowmaker is too skilled in hand to hand combat, and Sombra is much the same. However, without my gear I'm not…too dangerous. But, that's where the surprise comes into play."

Without a second thought, Moira dug her claws back into her middle, opening her stitches back up, taking in a harsh breath inwards the same time. All of them with the exception of Reyes gasped at her actions, looking at her like she'd grown a second head. "Fuck." She said, falling forward a bit, Reyes catching her. "That hurts a lot worse this time. Who knew that mood altering drugs could sedate you?"

"Not the time, Moira." Reyes said, mussing up her hair for her. "You look the part, for sure, but what about the big guy?"

"Siebren," She paused, looking him over. "I don't…want to advocate hurting you. But frankly you don't look like a prisoner right now."

"Oh." He realized her point, looking down at his clothes. "Maybe one of Reinhardt's shirts?"

"That…could work." Brigitte said, still a little shell-shocked having watched Moira hurt herself that badly. "Will…you be alright?" She asked, and Moira turned to her, expression a little absent, her red eye glowing not unlike Reyes' as the Reaper.

"She's survived worse." Reyes told her calmly, holding Moira steady. "This is part of the plan. Siebren, can you get a shirt quickly?"

"Of course, Reyes," He said, tepid, but Lúcio had apparently already left and come back, skating on the walls nervously, dropping off the shirt into his hands. Siebren removed the turtleneck, and slid on the oversized t-shirt easily. "I don't have any visible wounds."

Reyes looked to Moira, and then looked to the kids, the two songs overlapping more and more. "You don't need any, Siebren. Listen, I'm…really sorry for this. It'll be fine. Probably. Better we do this than Korpal."

"Gabriel," Brigitte said as she and Lúcio backed away, voice small and terrified, and the man shook his head, and swallowed, holding up a hand, before Siebren suddenly felt what had scared the two young members.

Reyes' smoke was suddenly inside him, all around him, the stars and the sky the empty yawning void and familiar vacant space.

From a thousand miles away in space, he watched his hands move as though they belonged to another person, and it all rattled inside his head.

"Siebren?" Lúcio asked, voice sounding like it came from underwater the blue planet Earth his home, his song filling the void of space as he touched it that music playing again why why _why?_

"Sigma," Moira breathed, pained. "Sigma, it's alright." Ally Moira right it was, he was Sigma.

He folded into himself, and peered around, floating more freely. "That's new, Reaper. An interesting display of your unique powers; is the good Doctor alright?"

"She will be." He confirmed, breathing out a sigh of relief. "Listen, our secret, do you remember it?"

"Oh, yes," Sigma nodded, smiling as he eyed up stranger-friends and target-allies. "You and Dr. O'Deorain promised me a lab and freedom, if I worked with you."

"Do you know them?" Reyes asked, gesturing to the girl and the boy, who were both watching with growing horror, perhaps? He turned to them, expression calm, pulling them into his gravitational well.

"Oh, I do, I do, yes." He nodded, surely. "The one that serves the big handsome one, and the short musician who makes hard sound."

"They aren't to be harmed." Reaper said, slowly. "Can you make sure of that?"

Sigma raised an eyebrow in confusion, but nodded. "Of course, Reyes. Oh, that's _your_ job, isn't it?" He said with a chuckle and a smile, good-natured as he floated forward, looking at the camera feeds on the screen. "Oh, what is Mr. Korpal doing here?"

"He's here to capture us." Reyes said, coughing a bit. "If he does, Sigma…Moira will probably be killed. And they'll imprison you."

"What?" Sigma startled a bit, confused. "I thought he was on our side? Dr. O'Deorain, why would he do that?"

"Do you remember what we did with Vialli and the others?" Moira said, voice calm, if a bit pained. "He's taking power for himself. We're going to make sure he doesn't get it, and we stay free." She stood up, patting herself down. "I just need you to help me out there. Efi and Orisa are trapped, we're going to rescue them."

"Efi?" He said, fear poking into him. "That sweet young brilliant girl and her OR-14?"

"Yes." Moira confirmed. "Your friend."

"We can't just sit here, then," He agreed, and Moira let out a relived breath, holding onto his wrist. "Where are Sombra and Lacroix?"

"They're off on another mission." Reyes quickly filled in. "It's alright, Sigma. I'm the handler today. My weapons are toast right now anyways. This is an in and out deal. Let Moira lead."

Moira grunted affirmatively at that, looking at Reyes from Sigma's side. "Anyways. Reyes, this is the one warning I'm going to give you. If you tear my ligaments again, we're having words. Sigma... a hand?"

"Kid, Lúcio." Reyes said, turning to the young musician, watching him like he was some sort of alien. Sigma mused on that. He supposed his origins were equally extraterrestrial, so, perhaps it wasn't a wrong assumption. "Let's go. We'll make the trade. I'll walk you through how to say it. Hostage situations are…tricky. Not even Jack was good at them."

Moira, meanwhile, stumbling towards the door, held tight to Sigma, leading him towards the sky in the way Sigma knew she would faithfully do. "Lindholm. You're going to be faking this with us."

Sigma looked about, floating through space. "Have we tested to make sure that all of the assumptions we're basing today's research on were correct? This seems awfully rushed, especially considering your injuries."

"No time." Moira breathed, holding onto him. "It's a unique opportunity. If we miss this window, we forgo any future possibilities of using it."

"Oh," He hummed, understanding that well enough. "Reaper seemed awfully nice today- has his treatment been progressing then?"

"In a sense," Moira said quickly. "Alright. Okay." She stopped, pausing, breathing.

"Are you okay?" Brigitte asked, her expression cracking as her hands moved slightly towards Moira, "Seriously, that looked…bad."

"I know the limits of my form." Moira breathed again, her composure breaking as her teeth elongated, and her eyes started to multiply on her face, black smoke leaking from her arm. "We're not even close to the worst I've put myself through. I'll tell you all about the mess that was Rialto if this works."

"So, the plan is… we trade off Efi first in exchange for me. Even Sanjay has a dislike for hurting little ones. They should give her up easily." Moira panted. "Then, Reyes' and I secret weapon will go off. Sigma, you will need to protect them, and get Orisa out of there."

"Ah, that." He made a face, realizing their goals quickly. "Well then, good hunting, Moira, Reyes," He said.

Moira turned inwards, closing her eyes, the three of them waiting in the dark, the lights of the building darkened and red. "Alright." She whispered. "It's been arranged. Let's go."

The woman handed her arms to Brigitte. "Make it look convincing." She said, and Brigitte again gave pause. "All that hated of me. I was what turned Overwatch bad." She said, furtively. "Make it look like you hate me, or just hate me. Sanjay will be watching for a trap."

Brigitte's brow furrowed, but she took Moira by the arm, and twisted it, Moira gasping in pain, but not escaping the hold. "Now walk me out, slowly. Let them hand off Efi first, then let me go." Moira coached, her voice weakened from pain.

"If you're lying," Brigitte's voice wavered, but her expression was determined.

"If I'm lying we're both dead," Moira gasped again. "Sigma, wait here. Brigitte will be back for you. She'll see you through this mission."

Sigma watched as the young squire marched Moira outside, left alone.

Moira's blood was a long stain on the floor, red mixed with black and purple.

_He didn't know how long he'd been there. How long it'd been since he'd seen the sun. Since it'd seen the sun. Weapon, dangerous, can't be trusted. Mistake, accident._

_No time, no sun, no skies. White walls, white ceiling. Bindings, drugs, no one was ever around. It was as though no one existed except Sigma. There would be bursts of activity with terrifyingly strange familiars and they'd ask questions dully of Sigma, and the music was all around, all the time._

_He could remember screaming and crying and being held down by all sorts of materials, drugged enough that he couldn't speak, but still conscious, them not wanting to kill him, but needing to just…keep him contained._

_Begging to be free. He just wanted out. Please. It wanted so badly to be free. Please._

_No one ever heard him. No one had ever come._

_Red lights_ overlaid with red and black and _the flashing of the emergency sirens_. _As violence erupted outside of his containment cell, guns and screaming that wasn't his own but perhaps it was and he just didn't know the sound of his own voice anymore._

_A stranger had opened the door, covered in blood. Red hair, a strange looking uniform and a smiling tall woman came in, behind her a shorter woman dressed in bright purple._

" _Dr. De Kuiper," The woman said, calm, smiling. "Or may I call you Siebren?"_

_He couldn't even formulate a response, the words escaping him, watching them from his restraints. "My, how…barbaric." The stranger said, disgusted as she approached his bedside, long fingers tracing over his restraints, before she undid them. "We can't have that, now can we?"_

" _Please, please," He rasped, tears coming first, floating upwards, unable to control it, unable to believe this was real. The stranger put her hands over his, squeezing gently, hushing him long but firm._

" _How would you like to see the stars again, Siebren?" She coaxed him, holding him down to the earth with a hand._

" _I, I want to be free." He whispered, voice hoarse, looking at her wildly, his powers surging in him. "Release me!"_

" _My name is Moira." She introduced, resisting his effects with some sort of black smoke. "We are freeing you. But…as to all those who sought to imprison you." She let that sit, red and blue eyes watching him. "They don't deserve to go free, do they? After what they did?"_

_All those years, of being asked questions and not knowing the answers to be let out, being kept under, watching nothing and being nothing. Moira's smile widened. "You can make them pay."_

_The answers they sought. The answer to everything._

_Violence would be their reward, the response. And Sigma would never be held down by them again. If what he originally had to say wasn't what they wanted, violence would be what they got._

_The shorter woman opened the door, and Moira gestured him outwards to the flashing red lights. "Come along now. We can't let Reaper and Widowmaker have all the fun today, can we? You deserve this retribution." Moira said, voice silky, pushing him towards freedom,_ towards new imprisonment _, towards the sky._

Brigitte _came back in, tall and imposing._ "Siebren," She said, breaking the memory open.

Efi was there, tiny, and scared, shaken, tears obvious in her eyes, out of breath.

There was blood on her shirt, injuries and scrapes over her form.

Brigitte was holding her carefully, and Efi looked up at Sigma, and Sigma saw himself, small and scared and broken and alone.

He was none of those things now.

"Miss Odalede," He said, trying to soothe, thinking of Moira, the way Moira spoke to him when he'd been back there, when everything had been wrong. "It will be alright."

"Dr. De Kuiper?" Efi said, her eyes huge, her body small, looking every bit her real age, and so far in over her head. Sigma sank down to his knees, and wrapped her up in a hug. Efi stiffened, before she sniffled, and started to cry, her whole body wracked with tears. "I- I don't think I can do this," She said, holding tight to him. "I, I think…"

"We've already called Winston and the others. But we have to hold down the fort until then." Brigitte said, bending over to their eye level, holding herself together firmly, being that firm rod in the ground, the core of the team. "It's okay Efi. Dr. O'Deorain and Reyes have some kind of plan."

"Right." Sigma said, standing straighter. "I need to be your shield. And we have a bot to rescue." He let Efi go, feeling that urge for violence growing in him. "And whoever hurt you, Efi, they're going to pay. I will make sure of it."

"You're not really trading yourself back to Talon for Orisa?" Efi stumbled, expression wrecked, and Sigma nodded with an easygoing smile.

"No one will ever imprison me again." He simply stated. "Are you ready, Miss Lindholm?"

Brigitte's expression faltered, and Sigma tilted his head at her, unsure of what the issue was, going over and over what he could recall. No, nothing immediately came to mind. They'd fought before, that was certain, but neither of them had ever grievously injured the other.

Lúcio appeared in the hallway, shouting. "Efi! Come on, let's go!" He said, and the young girl breathed in a shaky breath, and ran over to Lúcio, the man grabbing her and putting her on his back, before skating away.

"Now comes the tricky bit." Sigma smiled, brightly.

"Do you know what they're planning?" Brigitte asked, voice low, and Sigma hummed, thinking about it.

"Truth be told, no- I don't." He said, simple. "But some of the best works of scientific research came from accidents, and watching, noticing at _just_ the right moment. So lets test these, shall we?" He said, offering his hands to her, letting her put him into a much gentler hold than Dr. O'Deorain had been, sinking to the ground to walk on unsteady legs.

Brigitte, thankfully, was seemingly willing to play the role of Dr. O'Deorain, catching him as he came down off his high.

The OR-14 was turned off, its lights shut down. Just like Efi, it was obviously coming off a tough battle. Something rattled in Sigma's chest at the sight of the bot, taken down like that. Moira was in custody, surrounded herself, weak and waiting.

"Alright," Brigitte said, voice steady. "Turn Orisa back on, let her come over here."

The man in the footage stood decently far away, watching the scene like…like….

" _Subject Sigma, your progress continues to disappoint." One-way glass, a man watching, sneering down at him. It was trying, it was trying so hard- but, it's powers were just too much to hold onto. It couldn't make them stop._

The grunt closest to the bot powered her back on, and the startup noise began, the omnic creaking back to life. "Let Subject Sigma go," Korpal said, and Brigitte did so.

"Orisa," She called. "Let's go. We have Efi."

"But…" The omnic said, looking at Sigma, again, strangely, her electronic features suggesting emotional turbulence.

"Subject Sigma." Korpal called, and again, it rattled inside him, as he picture Vialli in that same position, calling him, demanding him to come to heel, to obey. He slowly started walking forward, and Orisa was allowed to walk forward as well, Brigitte backing up to the door.

Moira breathed in, and then out, and for a beautifully horrifying moment, everything went still, and then everything went into rapid motion. Sigma's shield was up in a heartbeat, blowing past Orisa to protect her as Moira exploded outwards into black and purple smoke, a being not unlike Reaper's own Wraith, the screams of the grunts only beaten in tone and terror by Brigitte's own horrified one behind him.

Moments later, it was done with, and Moira stood alone in the middle, carnage all around her, her wounds fully healed, her skin glowing, her eyes alight as she looked to Korpal fiendishly, the sun setting behind her dramatically.

"Ah, I believe Reyes and I neglected to tender our joint resignation letter." Moira said, politely. "But I will be placing my services elsewhere. I do not take kindly to people stealing my belongings, my ideas, or my subjects." She hissed, black smoke eking out of her skin as she took a threatening step forward. "And you did all three, didn't you? Ana's letters to me, your guns were based off my technologies, and most grievously, you decided to touch _Reyes_."

She leaned forward, coughing suddenly, pausing.

Korpal had taken several steps back, but at this he paused to, watching Moira the same way that Sigma and Brigitte did.

Moira's limbs jerked, slightly, before she cracked her knuckles. "And I think I have a few things to say about messing with me, Vishkar _goon_." The voice that came out of Moira's form was no longer Moira's, and she launched herself with a well-aimed punch at the next Talon grunt closest to her. "Let's go!" Moira commanded, running back to the door. "Sigma! Give us some cover!"

"Activating the barrier!" He said, moving his experimental piece of hard light between Moira and Sanjay as the remaining Talon grunts put together what had happened and began firing.

From behind them came a joyous shout, as Lúcio rode along the cliff face they were having the standoff in front of and launched himself into Korpal, the other man shouting as he was knocked over, taking out his weapon and aiming it at Lúcio, as Moira continued punching her way through things in an extremely inelegant fighting style Sigma had never seen her use before.

Sigma called his hyperspheres into existence, and started hurling them at the battlefield, watching Moira's back as the woman fought her way back to them, more Talon soldiers pouring in like the floodgates had been opened.

"You picked the wrong side, O'Deorain," Korpal hissed, and Moira's expression broke into a smile, too wide to be her usual smug expression.

"I did." She agreed. "Now I'm making it right." She vanished into nothingness, and Sigma watched her reappear in front of Korpal, her hand a tight fist as she launched a sucker punch at his mouth.

Lúcio cheered loudly. "Get his ass you crazy bitch!" He shouted, descending onto them both, knocking Sanjay away as he forced Moira off him and tried to take his gun back, and with a quick physics problem flying through his head, Sigma launched a large boulder at him as well, knocking him back flat on his ass.

"Not bad," Brigitte said, twirling her flail a couple times over before launching it and hitting a Talon soldier off the edge of the cliffside.

"Simply brilliant!" He complimented, launching a few more hyperspheres at the Talon soldiers approaching Orisa, the robot turning to face them fearlessly, her gun…

Her gun was badly damaged, and Sigma again felt hot anger through them. Hyperspheres wouldn't be enough for that. Through the veil of space and stars between them, he remembered Efi talking about how much money, time, love and attention she poured into fixing Orisa. Only for her to be hurt and damaged again after one poor fight.

He grabbed them in his gravity field, and held them still, before crushing them with a shout, the men not even having a chance to react before collapsing into themselves. "Get inside!" He said to her. "Efi is already there."

"But…" Orisa paused. "I do not wish to leave you unprotected, Dr. De Kuiper. Please allow me to assist."

Unprotected, hm? He hardly considered himself, one of Talon's most dangerous operatives and weapons to be unprotected, but the sentiment was kind. "Well then, let us work together!" He cheerily said, moving towards Orisa to let her protect him while his shield protected their allies, moving in on the waves of Talon soldiers.

Korpal's gun didn't seem to shoot bullets, instead using some sort of beam not dissimilar to Moira's, the two of them fighting, Moira struggling to keep up.

It was unlike her, because she wasn't using her body to her advantage. It was almost a lot like how Reyes fought, using brute force to break through.

That was a thought, he stopped, paused, holding 5 Talon soldiers midair as he considered it, floating above them all, before letting them drop as he figured he'd find out more later. The two were linked by some kind of mental bond. It wouldn't be out of the question, if a bit…strange. No more strange than the rest of them, though, certainly.

"Reyes!" He called, and sure enough, the theory was proven, as Moira's eyes turned to him, both red, raising an eyebrow. Then he realized that perhaps it was just Moira looking to see if Reyes had joined them on the battlefield and felt disappointed, going with the inelegant solution of punching the Talon agent who'd sought to sneak up behind them, before tossing him off the cliff with a slingshot of motion.

Still, a better hypothesis than anything else, he mused as he watched Lúcio and Brigitte close rank around Moira, Talon's numbers decimated after the first initial defense, brutal and fast.

"Retreat." Korpal called, building an object out of hard light, troops around him granting cover fire and body blocking the shots as Lúcio shouted at him.

"Oh no you don't!" He said, speeding towards him on those skates of his, Moira behind him, her talons and fangs outstretched, Brigitte pushing forward to try and catch him, before the man vanished altogether, reappearing in the distance with the other side of his creation, Talon's numbers mostly left behind in a pile of bodies, many of whom in varying stages of decay.

Moira gave up first, panting as she watched them scurry off to their ship, which took off in short order, the doors not even closed as she watched it fly off, Korpal sneering at them from above.

Sigma had never attempted such a thing, not at this distance, but he reached out a hand, and grabbed the ship midair, holding it within his gravity well. Korpal's sneer turned into a horrified caricature, and Moira looked equally shocked.

"Siebren!" Brigitte shouted. "Let it go! If it crashes it will destroy the base, and kill us all!"

Oh, well. There was that. Pity, he felt like there was a breakthrough to be had, if only he'd gotten the chance to try.

He released his grip on it, feeling the connection snap away, leaving his area of effect, Sigma's eyes trained on it as he watched it go.

He'd try someday.

Moira breathed out a sigh, double-checking on the state of her injuries- all healed, nice and neatly- and Lúcio suddenly whooped, as though realizing what had gone down.

"Holy shit!" He said, tiny body dwarfed by Moira's presence beside him, "We just sent an entire Talon squad packing!"

"Yes, well," She said, seeming far away herself. "We had practice decimating small armies of Talon over the years. And no one touches our things without our permission and gets away with it."

In the next moment, something apparently snapped, and Moira collapsed, her body giving out for seemingly no reason. He caught Moira dutifully, shaking his head. "Poor practices, doctor," He teased as she went down, seemingly unconscious, unbothered by it, before turning to the other two. "Well, are we going inside?"

The two younger members froze, then, as though remembering he was there at all. He looked at them owlishly, and it seemed they didn't know what to say, Orisa standing behind him.

"Doc, are you okay?" Lúcio asked, approaching him cautiously, as Sigma dutifully picked up her limp body, dragging it through the air towards him, before grabbing ahold of it with his hands, carrying her bridal style in his arms.

"Why, yes. I was unharmed in the onslaught, thanks to Orisa and you all working so hard. But Orisa is injured, and Dr. O'Deorain is down, so we shouldn't dally out here."

Brigitte and Lúcio seemed to look at each other, nervous about something, before Sigma gestured them to lead him inside. "I'm sure Reyes is waiting to debrief from mission." He said, calmly, floating towards the door, the music back at peace with himself.

Together, the strange group walked back to the room they'd set out from, Reyes and Efi checking through cameras together.

"Orisa!" The young girl said as she spotted them, getting up from her chair and launching herself at the robot. "Are you hurt, I'm so sorry," She said, and Orisa hugged the girl close, kneeling to better wrap her arms around her.

"I am alright, Efi. It is not your fault. I am sorry I could not better protect you." She said, apologetic. Efi's brown eyes had welled up with tears, and Brigitte came over to hug her, seeming equally relieved.

"I'm so glad you're alright, Efi. You shouldn't have tried to fight them with just Orisa." She said, squeezing the girl, before letting her go, rubbing her own eyes. "Reyes, is…Moira, alright?"

Reyes paused, before blinking, looking at them equally strangely. "Oh, right." He said, before he stood, walking to Moira, and taking ahold of her. "I'm going to kill you, Reyes," He grumbled, closing his eyes.

Moira jerked back to life then, breathing in like a fish gasping for air. "Christ," She said, hand on her chest, before she winced, lying back down. "Reyes, you bastard." She breathed. "I had one request, don't tear my ligaments."

"Sorry," He said, only sounding a little apologetic. "I think I spared them this time. You said nothing about generally overworking you."

With a pained grunt, Moira sat upright, putting her face in her hands and groaning. "Alright. Now they know." She said, leaning against the console, looking to her companions. "Talon will not stay gone long. Now that it is not a rescue mission, they'll return with more. Hopefully Sigma's dramatics will scare them off from an aerial attack."

"Has there been any contact with the main team?" Brigitte asked, hopeful, and Lúcio looked down, quiet.

Reyes made an unenthusiastic noise. "No, I'm afraid. Without the Zurich base, it's hard to get a signal in _or_ out. Until we hear otherwise, it's safest to assume we're on our own. Before the base was finished being built, Martha would always complain about the terrible service. It's probably worse now. If they never attempted to repair any of that infrastructure…" He sighed.

"So, how do we proceed?" Lúcio asked, swallowing thickly.

"Minerva," Moira said, managing to get herself into the chair. "Reinitialize lockout sequence 394." She turned to Lúcio, Brigitte, and Sigma, before looking to Reyes.

"Completing lockout sequence 394. Be careful, agents." The AI said, and Reyes sat with his thoughts, before speaking.

"They think we still have Lacroix and Sombra. At the best, they'll want to retrieve Sigma, Widowmaker, and myself. Three weapons who took a lot of resources to make what they were." He rubbed his arms. "At worst, it'll be better to just clean house and destroy the base."

Sigma hummed, thinking on that, and Moira huffed lowly.

"As they've yet to see your condition, Reyes, they might think they can salvage you three yet." She gestured Sigma towards her, and he obliged, sitting on the floor, as she seemed to examine something.

"What did you…do to him?" Brigitte asked, voice low. Moira gave a low chuckle, shaking her head.

"Oh, those were already there, Miss Lindholm." Sigma filled in for her. "My cranial implants? I got those very early on in my confinement." He shook his head, clearing the memories away like he could just brush them out of the way.

"Between solitary confinement, the restraints, and his new condition," Moira said, lowly, rubbing gentle circles into his back. "Dr. De Kuiper suffered a major psychological break. The cranial implants and Vialli's work with them exacerbated the issue, and for the sake of simplicity, there are now two distinct parts. Sigma is what we found in that cell when we broke him out, what you see before you. Siebren is much deeper; in a last ditch effort to save himself. I'm no psychologist, but it's less like…two different personalities, and more like a severe case of dissociation.

"The cranial implants exacerbated the issue tenfold, as they can…well. Act as the touchstone, be the physical embodiment of his compartmentalization seeing as it can impact his memory, and his senses. They were added to prevent him from being able to feel or see during his confinement, so that his health checks went, 'smoother.'" She made a disgusted face at that.

"We read the papers." Lúcio said, nodding, seeming equally disgusted.

"Regardless, Vialli's men theorized if certain senses could be blocked off in response to certain stimuli, they could selectively block off others. One of the big ones was ensuring that Sigma would never be able to hear this sort of talk. But there were other things he was forbidden from hearing about. It kept him…calm, docile, even. Quiet, easily controlled."

"But I broke the implant…" Brigitte said, realization coming over her.

Sigma hummed at that, curious but unsure of how to ask. He knew that Moira had answers, and if she wasn't concerned, neither was he.

"What Vialli eventually learned was that Sigma didn't want to be controlled, and once he started, his lack of context worked against Talon's interests. He often couldn't stop."

"He was a prick." He agreed, lowly. "Pity I couldn't kill him myself."

"Not for a lack of trying." Moira said, dryly. "Vialli then gave him to me. My base in Rome caused him too much…stress, so I took him to my home in Oasis."

Sigma nodded at that, able to recall it absently. "It was quite the place. Very beautifully made and decorated. How time passed, it was still under construction when I went away!"

"But I had a simple hypothesis. If what we see before us is dissociation…then what happens when given the time to come down?" Moira paused, looking at them to see if they followed.

"So…wait," Lúcio paused, looking him over. "That's still Dr. De Kuiper?"

"Who else would it be?" He asked, teasing.

"I did not create something to fit in his brain. The person who I replaced was the one who made Widowmaker's cranial implant." Moira defended herself carefully. "When he and Widowmaker's implants 'communicated,' for lack of a better word, she confirmed it. There is only one person in there. But two in hers."

"There's so much to unpack there," Brigitte said, a hand on her mouth. "So, he's…alright?"

Moira's hand paused in its reassuring circles, and Sigma looked up at her curiously. She seemed uncertain herself.

"It took him several months to come down the first time. Sigma here cannot be sustained all the time, not unless someone is pushing him forward. Once he was adequately safe, no longer on alert, not in risk of imprisonment, Sigma couldn't continue as he was. He collapsed, and for a time, I was concerned it was a relapse. That was how I reported it to my superiors. However, I thought the way forward was to give it time, and thankfully, I was granted it. And one day, Siebren was awake when I went to check on him, and although he was confused, and in spite of attacking me, he spoke."

"He couldn't remember anything relating to Talon, or after the accident." Gabriel recalled, lowly. "I remember, Sombra and I thought you were nuts not to rely on the implants. It'd been 3 months by that point."

"But relying on the implants wasn't working, Gabriel," She reminded tartly. "Regardless, the Siebren you know is the man you see before you…but having successfully compartmentalized much of his trauma, and with the aid of the implants we could compartmentalize his job for him as well. Sigma is that man, dissociated. No offense intended, Sigma, you're simply _very_ easily persuaded into action."

"None taken." He shrugged, easygoing.

"The final piece of consideration for any future therapist Siebren will need, frankly, is that Siebren has begun associating the name Sigma _with_ his trauma, personifying it, anthropomorphizing his anxiety as another person as a way of distancing himself from it." Moira finished, shrugging. "Quite the conundrum."

"But you're not a psychologist." Lúcio pointed out, and Moira nodded slowly, that way she did when she was hovering over irritated.

"Indeed, but I have read, so much _bullshit_ at this point." She stressed the curse word, shaking her head. "When it was just Gabriel and Amélie I had to become an expert at various medical problems their conditions could lead to, then Siebren here threw me for a loop." She waved a hand. "No matter. I'm aware Siebren needed more help than I could hope to give him. That's why I handed him off to _you_ lot."

"It doesn't matter right now, Moira. Drop it. I swear; you don't have to have the final word." Reyes complained, and Moira reddened slightly. "We have bigger fish to fry. The bot looks like she's pretty out of commission. I don't expect the kid to fight. That leaves us five. You two- neither of you are bad at this. A little unrefined, but that's to be expected. Neither of you were part of Overwatch. Sigma's a useful resource, but…just that, a resource. He can run outta steam. Moira and I are without our gear and frankly, not doing too well after being prisoner." He coughed, rubbing away black sludge. "Moira just fed, so she'll be alright once she quits griping about being sore."

"Fed?" Brigitte asked, concerned, and Moira gave a hand wave.

"I share many features with my Reaper," She airily explained, before she stretched her back out, frowning at him.

"Blackwatch order 394 is what Minerva's set on." Gabriel continued. "It just means that the base is under attack and there's very low staff on site, either because most are dead or the base was a remote one." He explained quiet. "It was one of the key sequences in the Crisis. Any nearby agents have been notified, or will be notified as they come online. There will be two ways into the base, either you have your comm and you use it to get in, or you break in. I won't lie. I don't know how much of the base the monkey's secured. Because of that, it's safest to assume that only the main areas have been secured. Moira's been busy fixing up the Blackwatch keep, so that's our last option in the case of a true siege."

"The Blackwatch keep?" Lúcio inquired, and Gabriel nodded.

"It's where we were being held prisoner. That's how we got out. Don't blame Siebren. Minerva obeys Moira, as I handed over commander privileges a long time ago."

"You weren't really trapped?!" Lúcio said, apparently shocked, and Moira gave an overdramatic eye roll, before she faded into nothingness, and reappearing moments later. "Oh, right. I guess that was a stupid assumption."

"Regardless, the Blackwatch Keep being secret from you lot isn't a terrible thing." Reyes said. "Moira had my comm during our stint in Talon. They shouldn't have any knowledge of the keep outside of its general existence. It's defenses and schematics? Only Moira and I have them."

"McCree and Morrison do as well, but they're not involved in this venture at the moment." Moira filled in, humming. "Regardless, Talon undoubtedly knows that most of you aren't at this base. They won't let this opportunity pass them by. Korpal may be gone, but more ground troops are to be expected."

"Our hope then is that we can block enough of them off that some kind of backup help arrives." Reyes said, and Moira nodded.

"But there's no backup," Efi said, concerned, the young girl sitting beside Orisa, working on the robot's arm, clearing off the broken pieces to be fixed.

"Not from your team, but there are others out there!" Sigma said, pleased that he understood what was going on, finally. "Sombra and Lacroix, for example, they might be able to assist."

" _If_ Sombra is available, she would likely have some kind of device attuned to this base to keep tabs on it. And, though the thought is abhorrent, theoretically McCree would have a comm, and he'd be close by." She made a face at that. "Amari and Morrison are also likely very close by indeed. Whether or not they will get the notification is unknown." She finished, voice soft.

"If Jack or Jesse actually come because we set off the Blackwatch warning system, Christ, Moira, I'll be amazed." Gabriel wheezed lowly. "It's not funny. But, God damn, 30 years and the team still doesn't have better fucking cell service in Zurich. We have to rely on the potential assistance of no less than 4 people who, in varying degrees, hate our guts."

"Make that 8," Moira commented dryly, pointing out their companions. "Morrison and McCree would come to watch us burn, lets be honest here. They might come to see the flames consume my pyre. McCree would cheer, and then leave again. Amari would swallow her feelings and permit them to act how they please." She finished, folding her arms.

He sighed at that, long and hard. Gabriel put his face in his hands, and when he looked back up, he had dropped the façade of the Blackwatch commander. Left in its place was the scarred and burnt individual Sigma knew well, teeth too sharp, eyes an unnatural red.

Sigma turned to the young people in front of him, and back to Moira and Gabriel. Lúcio and Brigitte seemed torn as to what to do, yet again. "So, to the Blackwatch keep?" He said, trying to keep the peace.

"The bot and the kid, for sure, if anyone else shows up." Gabriel agreed, quiet. "But for now, we stick together, and watch and wait. It's going to be a long night on high alert."

"Joy, you know, when I said I missed my time in Blackwatch, I did not mean the stakeouts." Moira drawled, finally getting to her feet with a groan.

"Not the time, Moira," Gabriel cut off her complaints quickly. "Minerva, set external cameras to main feed, set Blackwatch drones 4-9 on standby if there is any external movement."

"Drones on standby." The AI confirmed.

"Everyone, get settled in," Reyes said, voice dark.

XXXXX

The first few hours surprisingly passed without much incident. Moira and Reyes kept to themselves, and Sigma was content existing in their space. Efi and Brigitte were attempting to patch up Orisa, and Lúcio seemed to be holding onto the comm, watching to see if anything was going to show up.

At some point, Efi had gone to sleep, Brigitte having grabbed some blankets and pillows from a nearby living space, Orisa on standby beside her.

Eventually, Reyes suggested a card game to pass the time, and Moira agreed, roping Sigma in easily, dealing him cards without asking if he wanted to play.

"Are you two going to play?" Sigma asked the two younger individuals, who both tensed up, but came over regardless. The clock suggested that the time was well passed midnight.

They looked at each other, before Lúcio moved first, sitting down between Reaper and Sigma, before Brigitte squished herself between Lúcio and Sigma herself. With a sigh, Moira dealt them both in.

The air continued to be tense, but things settled, as the game progressed. Moira did a brief card trick, and Brigitte stammered. "How do you do that?" She asked, and Moira gave a small smile, before she repeated it.

"I had a passing interest in the occult as a teenager. My younger sisters often asked me to do tarot spreads for them." She explained, quiet, dealing the cards quickly. "I got good at impressing them with cards tricks."

"Everything I've ever learned about you, Moira, adds a new question." Reyes said dryly.

"I assure you, the feeling is mutual, Gabriel." She loftily said, looking back down at her cards. "Speaking of, have any twos?"

"Go fish." He said smugly and she blew out air, taking a card from the deck.

"I always envisioned you guys playing poker, not go fish," Lúcio said, and both Gabriel and Moira looked at each other, making faces.

"When there's stakes involved, we're too inclined to cheat." Moira dryly noted.

"And that is bad when we can read each other's mind." Gabriel continued. "Even then, McCree, and later Lacroix were better than both of us combined, and yes, that meant better at cheating too. We banned most formal betting games years ago, including poker, so Go Fish it is. Lindholm- any Jacks?"

Brigitte grumbled as she handed off one card, and Lúcio picked up a card from the deck, quietly.

"Moira, your two," Brigitte said, and the woman handed off two cards with a face.

"I seem to recall Sombra also had an affection for darts." Sigma commented. "And you were equally bad at them Moira. Brigitte, your twos?"

Moira went red, glaring at him a bit, her lips flattening out, as Brigitte frowned, handing the three cards to Sigma, who laid them out in front of him.

"Attention agents. Outside movement has been detected at multiple locations; Blackwatch drones 4-9 have been deployed to track their movements." Minerva interrupted, and Gabriel sighed as he set down his cards, and stood up, walking over to the cameras.

"Talon," He confirmed, putting the feed up for the rest of them.

"That's a lot of soldiers." Brigitte said, her eyes widening.

"We can take them." Lúcio said, firmly.

Moira rubbed her neck. "We'll have to. No one's answered the comms. We're on our own."

Brigitte picked back up her equipment, and Lúcio did a couple of quick stretches. Moira helped Efi onto Orisa's back with a surprising amount of care. "Take the elevator down- the one you carried us into. Minerva, grant agent Orisa access to the keep."

"Of course, Agent O'Deorain. Granting Blackwatch access to Overwatch agent Orisa. I am required to inform all Overwatch agents that any Blackwatch intelligence they may come across or hear about is strictly classified and leaks can result in punishment, including termination of your employment with Overwatch." She said pleasantly, in spite of the dire warnings.

"Minerva might be slightly out of date." Moira commented dryly.

"Good luck," Orisa said to them, carrying Efi off into the Keep.

"It's what we've got." Gabriel said, cracking his neck. "Ready?"

"Ready," They said quickly, not ready to go down without a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more to go after this! I hope last chapter wasn't disappointing, hah, I got this one up a bit faster because I knew exactly what I've had in mind for the finale for some time. I love to hear your reactions to this, it really helps me keep going.
> 
> Some final mysteries are being shown off to yall, though maybe they weren't exactly mysteries. Hopefully the subplot with Reyes and Moira isn't too annoying, I'm trying to wrap them up as well. This should ideally be done before the end of August. God willing.
> 
> If I'm not happy with where I end off, I'll probably write some kind of fluffy one shot months into Siebren's time with overwatch as a sort of continuation of where things are in this verse.


	10. Chapter 10

Sigma wouldn't exactly call himself the person who liked conventional wisdom turned into cutesy, supposed to be inspirational quotes. The saying that it was darkest before dawn, though, held some truth, in that the night was darkest when morning was fast approaching.

Meaning, they had many hours to go before the sun would break the horizon, and the world could get darker yet.

They prepared themselves accordingly. Reyes and Moira were relegated to close up combat, seeing as they were without their ranged weapons. However, they had the slight tactical advantage of being able to turn to smoke, and hide in small crevices the rest of them had no hope of getting into. Gabriel turned to smoke, with Moira manning the cameras and drones, and vanished into the airducts.

It only took two takedowns of troops seeking to invade small, side hallways before Talon wizened up. Two hallways full of rapidly decaying corpses did enough to dissuade the invasion party somewhat of making a discrete entrance. Reyes had that same quality Moira did now, skin glowing, eyes omnic red.

Full of vitality, in the most literal sense of the phrase.

Instead, they decided that apparently the best course of action was to attack head on. Reyes reappeared out of the vents, and Moira stood, nodding.

"This is a marathon, not a race." Reyes said, encouraging them with a sense of authority that everyone, even Sigma, could feel, in a way completely different than how he remembered Reaper. "Don't wear yourselves down too quick. We're all we've got."

They went outside proper, to face Talon where they were coming from, rather than to let them have the ability to determine engagements.

Sigma stayed close to Lúcio and Brigitte, Moira preferring his company or Reyes'. They cleared forces as they came upon them, Reyes and Moira stuck as terrifying close range combatants, but the moment the other three were in the same space, they had to be far more mindful of how they used their abilities, Sigma occasionally needing to use his shield to differentiate the targets from his tiny group of people to protect.

In spite of Reyes' words, the first person to tire was apparently Moira, the woman gasping loudly as a shot finally landed on her form as she came out of smoke, and Sigma pulled her back while Lúcio shot back at the Talon combatant, and Sigma's shield broke in the seconds that followed. Reyes reformed as well, and all hell broke loose as Talon swarmed.

Reyes was forced to use his hands to fight, claws and punches and chokes. Brigitte's mace was suddenly put to terrifyingly clear use, a memory rattling around in Sigma's head from a million miles away of the thing being used to chip, chip, chip away at himself.

Moira stood after a few seconds, hissing lowly, eyes brightening as she attacked the Talon soldier closest to her once she regained her footing. Lúcio, it seemed, was in very good form as he shot and evaded being shot, using his specialized equipment to ride along the cliffside and the walls of the base, his hard sound a very effective weapon, leaving Talon dead behind them as they cleared out the base.

They moved through darkness together, Sigma only using his powers when he could see his targets, his hyperspheres bright in the night, and the rest of his tools potentially dangerous to the same people who he was meant to protect.

A crack came in the night, and Moira swore loudly as she was shot, and Reyes grabbed the two kids and bolted for cover, Sigma putting up his shield in the direction Moira pointed at before they could follow.

Together, they found themselves trapped in a small room overlooking one of the runways of the base, and both Moira and Reyes swore lowly, Moira's wound already repairing itself.

"There's a sniper out there," Reyes said lowly as the red glow looked for them, his own eyes glowing in the murky dark of the early morning. "And we don't have anything to take her out with."

"So what do we do?" Lúcio asked, and Moira swallowed.

"Theoretically, Reyes could teleport to their location." She said, and both Brigitte and Lúcio looked at her like she'd grown a third arm. "What? He could."

Then, a crack, an explosion, and the sound of a Talon sniper screaming in pain, and the glowing dot vanished.

"Move, move!" Reyes urged, heading out the door. "We can't afford to be pinned down there, someone is giving us cover fire!"

"Yeah, but who?" Brigitte asked, using her smaller shield to shove back a Talon soldier who was reaching for Lúcio's gun.

"It could be ours, or it could be that Overwatch got the signal." Reyes assessed, shaking his head. "But whoever it was, we can't look a gift horse in the mouth."

They got to the next alcove, and discovered a group of Talon troops who were messing with the wiring and electronics on this side of the base, and Sigma finally saw a chance to act on his own, turning them into nothingness before they could even scream.

"Oh, _fuck_." Reyes said loudly, his gaze caught on a device. "Moira, prepare for impact!" He yelled as he turned around and covered the kids with himself, Sigma putting up his shield in a paltry attempt to protect them, but Moira seemed shockingly calm, breathing in, then out, and the world vanished into an explosion, Brigitte and Lúcio screaming.

Then the world came back, the room around them destroyed, the 5 of them completely unharmed, solidifying alongside Moira as the woman stumbled a bit, gasping, and Sigma caught the falling debris before it had a chance to crush them.

Lúcio and Brigitte patted themselves down, shocked and stunned for words, and Reyes let them go moments later, nodding at them. "See? We have a few tricks to survive explosions." He said, wiping away black sludge from his lips.

"Whoa." Lúcio said, eyes still wide. 

"Not to rush anyone, but we should leave this room, it is no longer structurally stable." Sigma said, only his will that kept the burnt out room in tact.

"Let's move," Reyes agreed, patting Sigma and Moira as he moved back outside, the kids following suit, and Moira leading him out into the straightaway as well.

They moved like this all over the straightaway, Brigitte shielding for Reyes when the man was caught out, coughing and trying to catch his breath on the black blood he struggled with, Lúcio speeding Moira and Sigma to work together and fight large clumps, Sigma and Brigitte knocking their attackers off the edges of various cliffs on the base.

It seemed never ending, and the night rolled on. But the sky started lightening; they started seeing the ships flying overhead, instead of being accosted in the middle of darkness by a large force.

Whatever hesitance the kids had at the start, as the battle raged on, it vanished, and when Reyes barked out orders, they listened, and when they made callouts, the older members followed their leads.

While there seemed to be no end, the fact was that no matter how hard Talon tried, no matter how hopeless it felt- no one could stop the sun from coming up.

They found themselves with their backs against the wall, a long straightaway before them, Talon soldiers dead all around them, panting, tired, worn thin. A long battle that had at the very least come to a lull, long enough to let Reyes catch his breath, Moira fishing a needle out of her pack to give it to him, and the man nodding appreciatively.

Dawn was warm against his skin, and the sky was, so pink, light coming out of the darkness, shifting from that murky grey to pale blue.

Talon's ships had stopped. Their men were dead or gone. The onslaught was over.

"Did we…do it?" Lúcio asked, as Moira breathed out hard, her eyes looking around for answers, Reyes slowly standing to his full height, several centimeters shorter than Siebren, Brigitte lowering her shield and equipment in bursts, looking on at the horizon.

"We did it." Brigitte agreed, shocked, turning slowly into joy. "Oh god, we did it. We lasted the night." She said, turning around, and hugging Lúcio tight, pulling Sigma into it, the large man confused for a moment before he hugged back.

Moira and Gabriel looked at each other, and Gabriel wrapped an arm around Moira, the woman staring towards the rising sun as well. "And we watch the dawn remake the world in its ancient pattern," She said, softly, Gabriel sighing at the quote.

"We'll do our best, Moira. It's all we can do." He frowned, the expression well worn into his skin, acting as a second skin, as he stared towards the horizon, blotchy skin being revealed fully, no more darkness to hide behind. They were all covered in blood, injuries, but they had won. "It's better than Rialto was, at least."

"Only just." Moira agreed, sighing. "I started the night eviscerated, instead of ending it so."

"See? Improvement." Gabriel shook her lightly, and Moira afforded a small smile, rolling her eyes as she humored him.

His senses shifted, feeling something off in the air, in the universe around him.

They weren't alone on the base.

"Intruder approaching!" Sigma shouted to inform his group, hackles rising as he saw a stranger coming from the horizon.

"Siebren!" Someone shouted, and their group halted celebrations entirely, Lúcio and Brigitte turning to each other, gears quickly turning in their heads.

Brigitte smacked herself lightly. "Oh, right. Fuck." She rubbed her neck, awkwardly. "I…I kind of told them that you guys got out of your cells and Talon was attacking."

"Ah, so they think we're the ones staging the attack. Or, at the best, we're helping the attackers. Got it." Gabriel understood, rubbing his temples lightly. "This'll be fun to explain."

"He's approaching quickly, do you want me to stop him?" Sigma asked, tilting his head as he readied a rock to throw at the large man.

"What did you do to him, you _bitch?!_ " The large man shouted at the top of his lungs, charging directly towards Moira. Sigma raised his eyebrows, gesturing at the rock meant to protect Moira, and Moira shook her head, giving Sigma a worn out frown, lips thinly stretched over her face.

"No, he's not technically wrong. " She said, and appeared to embrace it, standing still. "Put down the rock, Sigma. It will be fine."

Oh, right, she could vanish into nothingness right as he aimed to hit her. No reason to harm the man if Moira was alright with this outcome.

Yet, she didn't move to use her powers. "It's about time I stop running from responsibility and consequences. You both have been on the receiving end of Wilhelm by this point." She muttered lowly, and Sigma realized she intended to take the man head on, and again, he struggled with the idea of helping her or not. She had gestured not to do anything, and yet, he didn't particularly like the idea of his friend and ally getting squashed like a bug.

Even Reyes seemed a little concerned at that, "Moira," He said, backing up warily. "While I appreciate the sentiment, he's going to kill you."

"Unlikely, Reyes. We're both just a bit too hardy for such a mundane death." Moira disagreed, shutting her eyes in anticipation, Brigitte taking his hand and pulling him back as well, boggling at Moira seeming to embrace being slammed into full speed. "It will likely just _really_ hurt."

The large man got to only 10 feet away, when he suddenly stumbled over his feet, crashing forward and sliding the remainder of the way, a long and hard belly flop on concrete.

When the dust settled it was easily seen that the man was out cold, passed out, a large dart sticking up out of his ass.

"Uh, Moira," Reyes said, voice more than a little strangled as he looked at the dart like it was some strange foreign object- and it was, Sigma had no clue who shot it, and neither did the kids. The woman opened up her eyes, and once they'd focused on the dart, she started looking around upwards, desperately searching for something. After several times spent turning herself around, circling, she focused on a glint in the distance.

"Ana." She said, voice soft, walking towards it with a careful step, and Sigma saw the glint as well, before it disappeared with the sniper from its nest, seemingly not planning on joining them that day.

Gabriel went over, and pulled the dart out of Reinhardt's back, turning it over in his hands. "So they actually came, didn't they?" He asked, quietly, and Moira nodded dumbly, still staring into the distance.

"Who came?" Lúcio asked, confused as he started poking at Reinhardt, concerned. "Who shot the big guy with a tranq of all things?"

"Jack and Ana." Gabriel gruffly said, watching that same stretch as well. "They got the message."

"The cover fire we got then," Brigitte slowly realized. "That was them? They were the ones to come help?"

"Seems so." Gabriel nodded, dumbfounded. "God only knows why Jack isn't down here kicking my ass as we speak, though."

"Why would he?" Lúcio asked, "When Talon was doing such a good job of that," His voice went into teasing, and Gabriel rolled his eyes, shoving him slightly.

"Hey, you're supposed to have less sass than Jesse," He said warmly. "Anyways…team." He turned, looking at them all. Moira blinked, hands coming to her chest, looking away from the snipers perch and towards Gabriel, expression strangely watery. Brigitte and Lúcio stood side-by-side, seemingly eager to hear what Gabriel had to say now. "We fought good. We showed Talon who it is they're messing with. Sigma, you've improved leaps and bounds since we found you, your control and form are on the up and up. Kids, both of you- you're going to make Overwatch proud. I see why they compare you to Jack, Lúcio. You have that same something in you."

Brigitte nudged Lúcio, who seemed to be swelling up at the praise. "And you, Brigitte. Totally taking one after Reinhardt. Gonna make your family proud, too." Gabriel put his hands on their shoulders, before he shook them lightly. "Just don't take after their insistence on rushing in by themselves, alright?" The serious moment broke with laughter, as Gabriel knelt down beside Reinhardt.

He nudged him, lightly, forcing his face into that of the Blackwatch Commander, his scars and burns temporarily receding. "Hey, big guy." He said as Reinhardt groaned, looking up at him in a daze.

"Gabriel?" He said, confused. "Is that you?"

"It is now." He agreed, offering Reinhardt a hand up, the effort in it causing him to lose control on his face, the smoke burning off him as Reinhardt sat up, leaving the complicated man Sigma knew better than most.

His skin was blotchy, and smoke feely leaked off him, burns covered his hands and extremities. His face was scarred, burned in key places, and his eyes were an unnatural red, his hair long and mixed with smoke. He seemed almost nervous to be standing in front of Reinhardt, letting his clawed hands let the man go once he was steady.

Reinhardt's eyes flickered over to Sigma, who tilted his head uncertainly, and Gabriel gave them both an apologetic look, eyes crinkling. "It's complicated." He said, before Reinhardt said anything. "He's…okay, in the broadest sense of the word possible."

"What hit me?" Reinhardt asked, and Gabriel handed over the sleep dart, gesturing to the horizon, where the sun was long since poking out.

"An old friend." He said, and the same realization dawned on Reinhardt, the man breathing in sharply, eyes widening, turning wildly as though he could find it any better than Moira could.

Reinhardt watched that horizon for a long moment, before he turned to Sigma, seeming to mentally decide on something. "Hello, Siebren." He said, a tentative smile on his face. "I'm…sorry, for charging in, without thinking."

"Reyes was just talking about that," Sigma agreed, smiling back, offering him a hand to shake. "No harm done, Dr. O'Deorain can be quite the incendiary figure. The amount of times she's been on the receiving end of Reyes or Lacroix's ire doesn't hold a candle to this reaction. Oh, and apparently you and I are on the same side now! What a strange world we live in."

Reinhardt's eyes crinkled with worry, reminding him sharply of Brigitte and Lúcio's earlier expressions, looking at him. He still didn't understand, and his hand was left hanging in the air a little longer than felt comfortable.

Reinhardt took it just as Sigma was preparing to let it drop, and instead of shaking it, actually held the hand with two, fingers running over Sigma's skin thoughtfully, almost sadly.

Moira shifted awkwardly in the background. Apparently unsure of what to say, for once- she was usually so verbose around him, never short of explanations or stories or just her own thought process, complicated and long and winding. Like him, he recognized in the reflection. He was eccentric, but she was seen as unbearable.

Even Brigitte and Lúcio now seemed to dampen their spirits, Gabriel unsure of what to say, and Sigma wasn't sure why everyone seemed so…sad. He was alright- everyone was unharmed.

His job had been completed, and done well. He'd fulfilled his purpose. Everyone was safe and…they'd held the night.

So, why, was, was something wrong?

Sigma felt his control on gravity falter, and Reinhardt caught him, concern obvious in his expression. "Siebren?" He prompted, his voice choked up.

"It's alright, let it happen," Moira urged, and Reinhardt's expression crumpled into tears, before Reinhardt tugged him firmly into his space, the invasion should have been entirely against everything Sigma liked but, but he- it- he was alright with it?

"Let what happen?" He argued, holding Sigma close, he was so warm, this was…this was familiar, different familiar the familiar of the unfamiliar. "What's happening to him, what did you _do_?"

"He's alright, Rein, just, trust us, and let this happen. It'll be alright." Gabriel-Reaper said, his fellow weapon, his fellow ally, his fellow…

"Trust you?" Reinhardt laughed, a bit hysterical.

"I know it sounds bizarre, Reinhardt, but c'mon," Lúcio interrupted, the music… that melody, it was everywhere, individuals becoming nothingness, drops of sand in the vastness of the universe, and Sigma was its core, holding it all together, like Atlas, and yet he was no titan, no godlike creature.

He was one of those individuals trapped in light, watching as blips of light holding precious moments faded out of existence. Two large men in armor, laughing and drinking and kissing, high on saving the world, glory a promise and a reward and a punishment, a suit of armor acting as a coffin in an empty castle, a lonely man making a promise with the intention of keeping it then and always.

Harold and him, holding each other the night before his big experiment. Harold's final terrifying moments, 15 seconds of the cold vast emptiness of space before consciousness was lost, Siebren reaching out from too far within void, screaming into nothingness, screaming into white walls, desperately wishing he could shove his freezing, burning body back through the airlock, that he was free, that he could go back.

The lonely man finding the prisoner there in the dark, hand held tight around his own, willing to withstand the storm, Siebren's terrible creation no longer unrestrained and uncontrolled, another's hands were there to steady his and he'd been there for, so, so long.

"Just come back to me, okay?" Reinhardt urged, tone gentle, not good at soft things but wanting to try so badly for Siebren, and Sigma didn't even understand why, why was he…helping? No one else was coming for it, it was on it's own. It had to hold it together. And yet.

It wasn't Atlas.

It was- he was…human, right?

Reinhardt kissing him, tenderly yet passionately, holding him like this, two individuals left alone in the universe, left behind, reaching out to one another like they could withstand it if only they tried.

From far away, the center of a galaxy, cold and lonely and isolated and yet warm and held securely, Siebren dropped his tension, and the world went crashing down around him, blackness that wasn't the cold empty void- a blessing.

XXXXX

Siebren opened his eyes, and found himself in a familiar-unfamiliar place. He was alone in a bedroom that wasn't at all unlike his tastes, but yet, there were few signs that he'd participated in its personalization. He certainly couldn't recall personalizing it, not with the cutesy little cat clock on one bedside table, telling him that it was 9 in the morning. A bit late for him, but not horribly so.

Soft music played in the background, not unlike as though he was standing in an elevator, a passenger going about his day. Just soft enough that it was easy to tune out.

Blue sheets and a matching blue comforter were soft under his touch, and a dresser had signs of use, along with a comfortable looking chair in the corner by the door. There was nothing holding him down, and he had an itch in the back of his mind that told him there should be such devices. He ignored it, and ran a hand through his greasy hair.

There was a bathroom to the side, the white tile floor obvious even when unlit, not a far walk from the bed. A large glass mason jar held bright tulips, all of which looked fresh, though he had never been much of a tulip person in spite of their popularity at home, always preferring the boldness of sunflowers. There were several cards by it, all saying something to the degree of "Get well soon!" He stood, and was shocked when his legs didn't support his weight, making an involuntary yelp out of surprise.

The door on the other side of the bed opened, and suddenly voices were quite clear, and the music was as well.

"Moira, you can't be serious." Two women entered the room, a red head striding in first, and a petite blonde behind her.

"Oh, I'm deadly serious, Dr. Ziegler. Of all of the people Siebren has interacted with, I have the most time with him. It makes sense that I continue to perform checkups now that he's out of the medical bay."

"Continue? You are not a medical doctor in any regard, you have no right," Dr. Ziegler frowned very hard at that.

"Who do you think did his checkups in Talon?" Moira pointed out, harrumphing.

"Calling what you did a checkup is a very, very broad use of the word." She argued back. "Oh, he's awake." She said, entire attitude changing, softening up as she paused.

"Ah, Siebren," Moira perked up. "Taken a tumble, have we? Help me stand him up, Ziegler."

"I am the doctor in the room, I'm the one who should be telling _you_ what to do, not the other way around." Dr. Ziegler pointed out with a hint of bitterness, as Moira offered him a hand up, Siebren taking it, feeling strangely out of touch at the moment.

"Moira?" Siebren said after a long moment of staring at them, being helped back up to the bed. "I…" He rubbed his head, quiet, trying to mentally sort himself out. Something felt off here, but he wasn't certain of _what_ was off.

She smugly looked at Dr. Ziegler, as Dr. Ziegler sighed and remained standing.

Moira sat in the chair, just as she was supposed to, and looked at Siebren tellingly, patient. "Take your time. We aren't in any particular rush, Siebren."

"My head feels…strange." He said, hand going to his temples, and feeling…bumps? Definitely not metal. He rubbed the skin a few times over, before it sank in. "The implants, wait, Moira," Siebren rose out of bed, floating. "They're gone?"

"One of them is, we've gone ahead and removed one of them," Dr. Ziegler said after a moment. "The right implant was malfunctioning to an extreme degree, and seeing as it can alter your ability to discern reality, it was a dangerous piece of equipment to malfunction. After further medical examination, we determined the best course of action forward was to remove it. It wasn't medically necessary, and frankly, its main purpose was…barbaric."

Siebren didn't know how to feel about that, he didn't even know what to say, honestly. Everything felt strange, not real, a strange dream that he was only tangentially apart of.

"What do you remember, Siebren?" Moira asked, calmly, the way she used to, and the patterns- he liked patterns- they soothed him. In them, was an order to everything, repetition able to make things clearer for him, replicating results.

"I, I know you." He stumbled over the words, hands shaking slightly. He was free, free; there was some sort of inkling there about that thought, something beneath the surface of it. "Dr. Moira O'Deorain. We, we're colleagues. The blonde, she's…familiar," He squinted at her, trying to place the memory. "I don't know why."

Moira hummed at that, and Dr. Ziegler looked almost a little sad. "It's alright. Don't force it just yet, Dr. De Kuiper."

"You can call me Siebren." He allowed, as the other woman nodded.

"I'm Dr. Angela Ziegler. I work for Overwatch." She said, holding her hand out for him to shake, him following the courtesy through thoughtlessly. "Do you know where you are?"

He looked around, the place eerily familiar, and yet, nothing jumped out at him immediately. "No, but I think, I think I should." He shook his head after a moment. "I suppose, though, some Overwatch headquarters?" He had spotted a symbol on the comforter.

"We're in Watchpoint: Gibraltar." Moira explained, carefully.

"How are you feeling?" Dr. Ziegler asked, and he felt unsure of how to answer.

"Frankly, a bit out of my skin." He said, quietly.

Moira made a noise of sympathy. " _That_ would be the painkillers." She acknowledged. "From the surgery."

"Something was…wrong, I think." The memory flitted on the edge of existence, both real and unreal.

"Something was wrong." Moira agreed, patting his hand, his hand? Moira usually preferred his shoulder or his back; someone else usually rubbed his hand. "But it's alright now. We got it resolved."

"Oh, that's good." He agreed, quietly, before his emotions prompted him into action. "I, it feels silly to ask, but I think I have to ask, I can leave this room, right?"

"Of course, Siebren." Dr. Ziegler said, giving Moira a dirty glare, and Moira raised an eyebrow in confusion.

Moira gave her a cool look, and huffed. "You're not a prisoner, and you're also not on house arrest. If you'd like, we can go out right now." She offered, and Siebren nodded slowly, speeding up the gesture.

"Yes, I think I'd like that." He agreed, even as Angela bit her lip, shifting.

"Moira, it's not that he can't but…people will be excited to see him."

The other woman paused in the process of helping Siebren stand, lips flattening in displeasure. "Ah, but Dr. Ziegler, don't you see? That's my best use. As a deterrent." She said, tone completely flat in spite of the joke at her own expense.

Siebren chuckled, recalling some of Moira's tendencies, and Moira tellingly raised her chin at his expression lightening with the laughter. "A quick jaunt, and then I think I'll…rest a while. Clear my head." He said, quietly, and Moira nodded understandingly.

"Ziegler, anything else you require or are we finished here?"

Angela bit her lip, uncertain, but shook her head. "No, I think he's alright. Just…be careful not to overexert him."

Together, the two walked out the door, and Angela behind them. They went down one way, and Angela went the other, thought she sent a few glances over her shoulder.

"Heavens, you would think she would recall that I was responsible for you for a very long time." Moira commented, and Siebren shrugged absently.

"How long have I been out this time?" He asked, and Moira hummed again, thinking of the best way to answer.

"About two weeks. The first week we watched and waited, the second we decided upon surgery due to the mentioned malfunctioning of the implants" Moira's voice was soothing, familiar, deeply so now. "It hasn't been horrible. Reyes and I have been bogged down in the mundaneness of life on base, and I won't trouble you with details, yet." She pat his back, guiding him through the base quietly. "I must say, you gave everyone a scare, I told them not to worry, you always have found your way back."

"I suppose." He agreed, feeling like he was walking through a dreamscape, the place he knew and yet, didn't know where from. "Are you hungry?" He asked, feeling his stomach growl a little.

"I take it you are?" Moira understood, nodding. "I suppose I can bother with the kitchen crowd, as long as you're ready for some attention."

"This place, its familiar, but strange," Siebren confided in her, looking around quietly as they passed through hallways and rooms filled with equipment.

The kitchen was occupied by more familiar unfamiliars, though some registered stronger than others. He squinted at a few as he passed, trying to place faces, many of whom seeming to be holding their breath.

The youngest in the room got up first, and ran up to him, hugging him tight. "Dr. De Kuiper!" She said, squeezing him. "It's good to see you up."

"Efi," One of the wary women said, before the robot pat her on the back.

"She is fine, he will not hurt her." The omnic- very humanlike said. He was definitely unfamiliar, so there was that. "She is right, it is good to finally see you well, Dr. De Kuiper." He politely said, and Siebren awkwardly hugged the girl back.

"Miss Odalede," Moira politely said, putting a hand between the two of them. "Give him some space. He's processing things. I told you, he might not remember you immediately."

"O'Deorain," The woman greeted, seeming less than friendly.

"Sojourn," Moira said back, not taking the bait, Efi taking a step backwards and looking up at the large man.

"I know you might not remember me, but…" She squeezed his hand. "Thanks for fighting with us. When you're better, maybe you can give me your thoughts on Orisa's systems. Some of the things you could do with gravity in battle…it was so cool." She said, before she went back to Sojourn.

"It is good to see you up, big guy." Sojourn caved after a moment. "Cranial implants are a mess and a half to deal with, and yours certainly had a funky set of schematics."

Siebren made an affirmative noise, unsure of what to say, really. "I'm sorry I do not recall you, at the moment," He said, nervously looking around the room.

"Oh, we've not met yet." The omnic said pleasantly. "My name is Zenyatta. Genji finally asked me to join him in Overwatch."

"How long do you think it'll take him to remember us, Dr. O'Deorain?" Efi asked, seeming awfully young to be there, needing to use her hands and one knee as leverage to climb back onto the barstool.

"Ah," Moira seemed surprised at the question, but the three individuals all seemed to look to Moira for answers. "Well, it depends on him." She said, carefully. "It's not the first time he's wound up like this. The fact he knows me, at least, is promising for a faster recovery. The longest he's taken was, well, three months. But that was a unique situation."

"You're terrible at comforting people." Sojourn said dryly, as Efi's eyes shone a little at the thought. Siebren offered the girl a smile, shrugging at Moira's words. He understood, theoretically, that his condition was highly variable and subject to problems.

If everything felt unreal, that was its own issue.

"So I've been told." Moira grumbled, heading to the fridge. "Siebren, what would you like?" She asked, and Siebren stuck close to her, looking over her head for food. Eventually they decided on reheating some of Moira's own food, Siebren not wholly convinced that everything in the fridge was up for grabs.

While Moira reheated it, Siebren was sat down at the barstools, Sojourn saying that she'd take Efi out to give the docs some space, and Zenyatta followed shortly after, saying that he hoped that they enjoyed their meal.

Freed up from onlookers, Siebren looked around at the kitchen area, well decorated with many signs of frequent use. There was a large whiteboard with text on it, three sets of chores on it, "Dinner Duty," "Dish Duty," and "Grocery Shopping," with a little cartoonish gun drawn next to grocery shopping. He recognized his name under the excused portion, and found Reyes and Moira's quickly, on Sunday night dinner duty, and Thursday night dish duty.

Moira set his plate in front of him, and gave him a steadying pat on his hand. "I know I don't have to remind you, but go slow," She urged, putting her plate in as well, before she decided- boldly- to sit on the kitchen counter.

A man Siebren only vaguely recognized walks in, but Moira seemed pleased to see him, so he put the remaining puzzle pieces together easily. That must be Reyes, he thought to himself, as the man made his own plate, sitting next to Moira on the countertop, and waving at Siebren.

"Ending a workout early?" Moira commented dryly, and Reyes elbowed her.

"Shut it, Moira. Your emotions started going haywire, meaning you and Ziegler had either gotten into an argument, or something else was happening." He put the towel around his neck over his face, wiping away sweat. "Hey, Dr. De Kuiper." He said, waving at him, and Siebren waved back, absent.

"That is you, right, Reyes?" He squinted, something off in his appearance, and Reyes nodded, stretching.

"Yeah, I'm the only one on base with smoke leaking off me, last I checked. Moira, am I looking that much better?" He boggled at the thought, and Moira nodded, bemused.

"Apparently people _were_ actively messing with you. Like I thought." She dryly noted as she hopped off the counter to take her food from microwave, and put in Reyes'. "And…loath as I am to admit it, Dr. Ziegler has been helpful in other aspects of your continued care."

"Moira, she's a _medical_ doctor. You're _extremely_ smart and have kept me alive for years now, but, she knows a lot more than you do in this _one_ specific area." Reyes nudged her, and Moira peered at him with a frown.

"We'll see about that," She dryly commented, and Gabriel gave an exasperated sigh, before turning and patting Siebren's arm, giving him a serious once over.

"How are you feeling, space cadet? I take it your memories are a bit rough right now."

The familiar nickname settled in him warmly, and Siebren hummed lowly. "Most things don't feel real right now. I feel like I know this place, but I also cannot recognize it. The same's true of the people. My hands feel like they belong to someone else, Moira's food is tasty, though."

"Some of that's just meds." Reyes sympathized.

"Moira suggested the same," Siebren agreed, taking another bite. "I can't recall Moira ever cooking for me before. She's good at it." The nebulous before was a question in itself, but it felt right. There was a _before_ that was very different from this now.

Reyes snickered a bit, and Moira gave a long-suffering sigh. "Seeing as we're both on…hm, lets call it probation, originally a lot of people snubbed us on food, not being friendly. So Moira and I made meals for just us two. People got jealous especially on really bad dinner nights, then frisky with her sweets, and eventually Moira and I were integrated into dinner duty."

"I have never been more tempted to put laxatives in my baking." She grumbled her agreement, folding her arms as she set down her plate, finished for the moment.

"But if you did, Angela would have a field day raking you over the coals." Gabriel pointed out, and Moira rolled her eyes, huffy.

"Yes, yes, of course, I put the devil laxatives in the cookies because I am the antichrist herself." Moira drawled, lowly, sarcasm thick in her tone. "Not because thieves have been tormenting me and preventing me from completing more complicated recipes."

"I don't even think that the thief part bothers you, it's that they take the sweets and run without even acknowledging you on any level." Reyes commented, and both of Moira's dual eyes glowed bright unnatural colors, neon red and blue, her smile overly fake, her expression frozen at the callout, the two only interrupted when the microwave beeped loudly.

"Some things obviously haven't changed," Siebren noted with a grin, and Reyes snorted, nodding, as Moira pat down her shirt roughly, handing him his plate from the microwave, before she settled back in.

"No, some things are the same as ever." Moira agreed, taking another bite of her food.

"Doctor creepy," Gabriel goaded with a chuckle, and Moira flicked some mash at him with her middle finger.

"Uh, did you just throw food at the Reaper, to give him the bird?" A new voice interrupted the scene, and Siebren turned quietly, as Moira went bright red, her ears down to her neck. Two short individuals who…he felt he knew, intimately, were staring at the scene in surprise. Reyes started laughing at this, extra eyes opening and tearing up from laughter.

"Caught, Moira," He said, and Moira glared at him, covering her red face with a pale hand, her purple one used to set down her dish.

"Siebren," The younger woman said cheerily, "Angela mentioned you had gotten up for a walk," She came over, arms extended for a hug, and his body moved on its own to return the gesture far quicker than he'd done with Efi. "It's good to see you out of bed."

"Oh, well," He said, embarrassed that their names were escaping him at the moment, the idea he should know them getting stronger and stronger. "I was hungry, and Moira and Angela seemed like they weren't getting along well." He admitted, and the other man snickered.

"No, the two get along like a grease fire." He said, getting in on the hug as well. "It's weird to see Mercy of all people so worked up. She usually has such a clear head."

"Oh, if you think _they're_ bad, wait and see what'll happen if Reinhardt manages to get Jack and Jesse join," Gabriel taunted. "Moira and Angela have at least enough in common to have had some kinda relationship."

Beyond her tomato red blush, Moira made a little meek expression, swallowing thickly, obviously thinking of that. Gabriel's face twitched, and his eyes widened. "What, no," He denied something reflexively. "Not _them_ too," He groaned, putting his head in his hands. "God damn it, _McCree_."

The two younger individuals looked to Siebren for answers, and he shrugged. "I long stopped trying to figure out what's going on in their heads." He whispered, conspiratorially. "It's probably a lot more mundane than you think."

"Wait, do you know who we are?" The young woman asked, hopeful, and Siebren's expression crumpled a bit, guilty.

"I know I _should_." He gestured to their forms. "Like the answer is hovering just out of reach. But at the moment…beyond this vague impression, I can't recall you, no."

They both looked sad as well. "Well, Dr. Creepy over there said it'd probably come back to you in time, so long as you managed to recover. For now, name's Lúcio, that's Brigitte."

Moira groaned, but just wiped down her face, closing her eyes. "Will I ever escape that wretched nickname?" She complained, looking away, embarrassed.

"Yeah, if you go back on your fucking meds. I've started feeling a lot better since I picked back up my prescription." Reyes commented, lightly.

"I don't feel any different," Moira said, voice low, defensive, an old wound being picked at.

"Moira, I'm your closest friend. And I've been neck deep in your head more often than I'd like to admit." Reyes said, firmly. "There was a difference. You can't see it because you're off them. If I'd known when I'd hired you you'd been forced off your meds I woulda gotten you them myself."

"Like, not to be intrusive, but, like, medicated for what?" Lúcio asked, and Moira turned away, her discomfort covered very thinly by a sneer.

"That which the world has never understood, nor bothered to try." She said, hurt seeping in. "I am not a broken doll, Gabriel, I do not need fixing."

Reyes ran a hand through his hair, and put an awkward hand on her shoulder. It almost looked like she was going to shove him away, but she allowed the contact. "I'm not broken either, Moira. But I'm better on my meds. Off my meds, everything's a lot worse." He commented, voice soft, body blocking the onlookers. "Hell, you don't even have to go to Angela either. Baptiste was the one I went to. Christ, you drugged us both for _years_ because you know that the two of us have certain tendencies. At least think about it."

"I…" She rubbed her elbow, nervous. "I'll think about it." She murmured. "Now quit embarrassing me, we're in public."

Siebren watched the conversation awkwardly, the two kids gawking a bit.

"Let's be honest, if either of them tried to tell anyone you threw mashed potatoes at me, no one would believe them." Gabriel said decisively.

"That does seem reasonable." Siebren agreed, and both Brigitte and Lúcio looked crestfallen, as though they realized that too and were disappointed with the revelation. "Though if you're tired of being seen as creepy, Moira, humanizing you would go a long way. Stage a midnight meeting to rhapsodize about lost love, perhaps?"

Gabriel snickered and Moira again went red, deciding to cover it by aggressively washing her dish, Brigitte and Lúcio deciding to join him at the counter. "Man, this room gets empty fast when you two are around." Lúcio commented, looking around.

"Moira called herself a deterrent, I believe." Siebren acknowledged. "And Reyes has a penchant for being quite scary. Though he seems to be in a good mood today. Sombra will be happy to see it." He smiled at the thought, but no one else did.

"Sombra hasn't joined us," Moira said, after a long moment, with no one seeming to know how to respond. "She and Lacroix are off doing their own thing, apparently. Not that I blame them."

"The welcoming committee sure isn't anything to write home about." Gabriel snarked back, and Moira gave a slight smirk at that.

"It was just fine for everyone else, it might have something to do with what you two were doing before…" Brigitte said dryly.

What they were doing before? Siebren looked at his hands, peering at them curiously, as though they held the answers, and he supposed they did. The secrets of the universe, trapped inside human form. Gravity itself, shackled to him, and him, shackled down.

But by who?

It felt like his music started skipping, like a record player that was scratching against, against something.

_Moira and him in transport, Moira grievously injured but able to come back from it, able to heal. She was waiting for him, he knew now, looking back on it.  
_

" _Talon's…" He had such a hard time coming to terms with it, didn't he? The idea itself was wrong for him to even say, and yet, he'd come so far, and it was only a few steps further to say it. "It's not…good, is it? Those children that we were fighting… they're not bad, or wrong, for fighting us…are they?"_

He felt like he was coming down off some sort of high, just as off-kilter as he'd been before. He stared at Brigitte, everything around them floating midair, and saw her, truly saw her.

"Brigitte?" He looked at her, bleary, letting everything settle back down to the ground, his plate turning into a mess as his hold on gravity was released. "I…I didn't hurt you, did I? I was just…I was trying to help Reyes and Sombra get out of there, but I caught you in my gravitic flux."

"Siebren, that was a while ago now, yeah, it hurt a little, but we were all okay." Brigitte said, worried, and Lúcio nodded.

"But he remembers it!" Lúcio pointed out, and Brigitte perked up, realizing that as well.

"I told you he just needed time," Moira said lowly, as Brigitte wrapped an arm around him, squeezing.

"See? I'm fine. There's no bad blood between us either, you should know." She said firmly, patting him a few times. "Trust me, there were loads of fights where things went _much_ worse," She said, before Lúcio smacked his face against one hand, and Siebren tensed up at the thought.

"We're all okay! It's just why people were a little slow to trust you!" She said loudly, trying to explain it for him in easy terms, and Moira sighed as she took the plates and cleaned them up, wiping down the counters from Siebren's small adventure in gravity as Siebren, Brigitte and Lúcio went over some of their past fights, the good and the bad.

XXXXX

They all wound up in the living room of Overwatch as Brigitte and Lúcio walked him through the vaguest outline of events, and he had the sense that he hadn't known most of this information before. At first Moira or Reyes, usually Moira would supply missing gaps in their narratives.

("Yes, that was when Vialli set you up in a little lab in Italy. It worked well at first, but implementing you into missions was trickier than you'd think."

"Overwatch actually tried to grab you back then, not knowing who you were under the mask. It almost worked; you were scared and alone on the battlefield. We were quite concerned, but you were easily brought back to task. They stopped being able to talk to you after that. I think that might be where some of Tracer's original animosity must have come from, not knowing any better."

"You did in fact kill Reyes that mission in the technical sense. It wasn't a big deal, we can both survive death now a few times over. You almost gave Sombra a heart attack in the process, though.")

However, as the narrative shifted to his time in Overwatch proper, Moira got quieter, content to listening. Reyes had already long since gone quiet, but when Lúcio was done explaining the attack on Gibraltar that led to this episode of forgetfulness, they were all, frankly, a little shocked to notice that they were both asleep on the couch, Moira's head resting over Reyes', the two tucked together, two shadows who'd had the other as their only companion for some time. Reyes snored, quietly, his folded arms slowly coming undone in the relaxation of sleep.

"Dude," Brigitte said, her jaw dropping. "Lú, do you have your camera?"

"Of course," He said, and took it out, before Siebren took the phone away by floating it out of reach.

"Let them be." He said, voice quiet. "I can count on one finger the times I've seen Moira sleep, and Reyes, on one hand. This is that one time for Moira. Is there somewhere else we can talk?" He suggested, and though both Lúcio and Brigitte looked disappointed at not capturing blackmail material.

Siebren sighed, picking them both up with him in his gravity field, the two of them meekly yelping as they were carried along.

"Not gonna lie, this feels really weird, Siebren." Brigitte said, doing her best to stay upright.

"It's cool but, weird," Lúcio agreed, giving into the small urge, and doing the zero-grav somersault. "Oh, that's sick," He said, stars in his eyes as he spun forward.

"Oh, yes, well." Siebren rubbed his neck. "It's terrible that my field doesn't extend very far. My favorite thing to do was to slingshot myself around the I.S.S." He recalled pleasantly, setting them both down carefully, not wanting to harm them in their return to Earth's gravity.

"What about on the moon?" Brigitte asked, curious now, perhaps because Siebren really didn't talk about being in space all that often.

"Oh, we had artificial gravity there." Siebren said, chuckling. "It was one of the first big tests of me and my colleagues work in gravity, doing the technical work to build the Horizon- actually, that was where I first came into contact with your father, he and other members from the guild were brought on as consultants, advice in engineering some of the machinery. It was actually right before the Crisis too that we managed to finish it…" He gave a nostalgic sigh, thinking back on it. "If we hadn't, imagine how difficult poor Winston's life would have been when he managed to get to earth."

The words all feel right, and he recalled the ape, Specimen 28. He was the head of this little band, wasn't he? And Brigitte, her father was Doctor Lindholm, though he wasn't actually a PhD, just a very accomplished engineer. Yes, that fit in place, things starting to feel more tangible, real, less like this was all just a strange dream and he was just floating through it, not really apart of anything.

"Alright, stop here," Brigitte said, and opened the door, peeking in. It was a cute little room, much like the one he'd been in, but the sheets on its main bed were tie-dye. There was an extra bed to one side that was covered in clothes and smaller bits, the dresser full of what appeared to be her battle gear. A laptop was set up at the desk, and a phone was charging in the wall. "My room." She gestured around, before shoving her pile of things onto the floor, and settling onto the bed.

"Brig, don't you know that you can get another dresser?" Lúcio pointed out, and the woman waved a hand, a bit embarrassed, but not bothered.

"Eh. It's not been a huge priority. Most of the stuff I had with me is in the dresser, but I was on the road for years. Mom sent the rest of the clothing I own, a lot of it doesn't even fit anymore." She complained, shaking her head.

Strange, that was how Siebren felt about himself at the moment, pulling at pieces of himself and finding that old thoughts didn't fit, and his new ones were all tucked away from him, out of sight.

Lúcio sat on the spare bed, and Siebren followed and sat beside him, awkward, lost in those thoughts. Lúcio and Brigitte started chatting quickly about stuff, upcoming plans and gossip, names flittering by him, some familiar others less so. It was an easy air to be in, and they didn't seem to be bothered by his presence.

("I saw you checking out Reyes in the weight room."

"I'd be blind not to- man's built like a brick house. But, Brigitte, c'mon. Baptiste is literally too hot for words, and Genji? Once he started chilling out, god. I have no idea what I'm going to do."

"Ask one of them out! Both of them if you're feeling really confident. You're not bad looking, Lú. And you're an amazing person."

"But what if they don't want me and I just make things really awkward?" Lúcio pointed out, shaking his head in overdramatic melancholy.

"Literally no matter what you do, it can't be worse than the weird crush I've managed to develop." Brigitte said with a sigh. "It gives me my own second hand embarrassment. Embarrassment squared."

Lúcio seemed to think for a second of who she might be talking about, before his eyes widened and his jaw dropped, incapable of forming the words. He obviously thought he had the answer.

"Brigitte, _no_. Not _Moi_ ,"

"Lú!" She threw a pillow at him. "Don't say it!")

After a while though, he started to feel the efforts of the day wearing down on him.

"I think, perhaps, I should return to my room." He said politely, stretching himself out, standing upright as his control over gravity took over.

"Awh, okay big guy." Lúcio said, patting his arm appreciatively. "Don't be a stranger. Someone will be by later to see if you're up for dinner."

Brigitte looked a little disappointed as well, but she nodded. "We'll be seeing you, Siebren." She said, before Lúcio suggested going to his room, apparently because he had a console for games, and a working TV in his.

He walked out the door, and exited into the hallway, going one way, the younger members heading the other after waving him goodbye.

Something still felt off, and he again found himself looking at his hands, feeling like, someone had been holding them. Holding him. He was missing a big part of something, and he hadn't a clue what it was.

At the end of the hall, a large man was pacing down the length of the connecting hall, thinking to himself, talking in a low tone, concerned about something. Siebren watched, and something urged him forward, low and anxious as well, but present and demanding.

The man turned towards him, and paused in his stride, expression blanking.

He was one of the most handsome men Siebren had ever seen. Blue eyes, kind eyes. The kind that people compared to the open sky. Siebren's were always compared to storm clouds, his tumultuous personality lending itself to that readily. His hair was a shock of white, as was his beard, but Siebren floated forward as though drawn into the other man's gravitational pull.

Just come back to me, okay?

"I, I dreamed about you," Siebren said, his hands lifting up slowly, as though to touch his face, put it to memory. Dreams and forgotten memories of them, of a hand on his own, arms around his middle, and lips on his mouth. "Are you, was that real?" He asked, hands grasping at the air, as the strange familiar moved forward to meet him.

"Siebren," The other man said, seeming lost for words, a hand on his face, the other holding his hand the way he'd been thinking of since he'd woken up. "I'm real," He murmured, soft.

"Your, your eyes, they're like the sky." He said, voice weak. "I didn't pay enough attention to the daytime sky before, just the night, and yet I missed it twice as much. But they're…so beautiful."

The other man was a bit flush, and large hands managed to be gentle as Siebren leaned into the touch, as though he just realized how starved for affection he truly was, the touch lighting up forgotten synapses in him, an abandoned base in the middle of space turning back on with attention.

The loving stranger slowly picked him up, and Siebren allowed the gesture, sinking into it, comfortable to just be caught here, to feel like he was no longer alone in nothing.

He carried him back into his room, and laid him down on the bed, Siebren's long form just barely held on the standard frame. He looked down at him kindly, the creases of his face giving away unspoken concern as Siebren felt his exhaustion from the efforts of earlier wearing him down.

The other man pat his hands gently, and backed away for a moment, before Siebren reached out and took hold of his hands again, pulling him back, quiet.

"You, you don't have to leave," He urged, voice soft, the two lost in the moment together.

"Reinhardt," He said, breathing in and out, remembering the name, the feeling associated, of warmth and belonging and being wanted. "You don't have to go. Not if you don't want to."

Reinhardt looked shocked to hear his name, before his hand wrapped tight around Siebren's own, shifting their hold to manage it.

"Do you want me to stay, Siebren?" Reinhardt asked, settling against the bed with him, and Siebren nodded, squeezing back, and Reinhardt pushed him over slightly in the full bed. "I'll keep you company." He compromised, and Siebren moved out of the way to allow Reinhardt in, the larger man propping Siebren up on his lap, a gentle hand through his hair, thumb rubbing where the missing implant was.

"Anything you're willing to give me," Siebren agreed, tired, his face turning against Reinhardt's warm skin, his sweatpants a nice pillow, and his eyes refusing to stay open much longer. "I'd like whatever you want to give me."

Reinhardt leaned forward, and Siebren smiled as he felt lips on his temple. "I think, Siebren," He said, lips quirked, "I can give you that."

However broken he was, however much time had passed, however odd or strange or eccentric or alien he'd become.

He wanted to be right here, in Reinhardt's arms, being loved in this way that they could love each other in this moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's a wrap! Thank goodness 2 because, I'm sure this years gamescom is gonna have like. a short that prolly invalidates my work makin sense of ow lore. i'm like. excited for the prospect of lore. but on the other hand. dam every time new lore comes out I push off writing bc, ik in my heart I'll try to absorb the lore and it often directly contradicts things i've written.
> 
> On the other hand, if we have an OW short that features Talon in it, any time around my bday, I'd lose my Mind.
> 
> Moira and Gabriel are technically not members of OW at this point in the fic, but they are considered under their protection and, are a useful set of assets. If you didn't read blue lotus, which you didn't have to, this stands alone, Moira was diagnosed in her 20s with a personality disorder, and Gabriel had much the same happen when he was 18 or 19. I personally see her as also having undiagnosed autism, both of which lead to her lack of facial tone and empathy issues, her obsessive tendencies, and the general "creepy" factor. Siebren has like, vibed with this portion of her for a long time, just as she and reyes have shared emotions over their issues.
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it, I'd love to hear your thoughts on how it went or if I made some kinda misstep in the writing that you didn't necessarily like. My next project is gonna be the spiderbyte fic for this series, and maybe some kinda Ana centric fic that talks abt Her perspective of the situation. Depending on reaction 2 this, or how up for continuing the sighardt plot of this any time soon. And like. It'll be sighardt Exclusively instead of sigma centric that deals with the build up and fallout of Talon.


End file.
